Dark Empire: Exodus
by KnightoftheWord
Summary: Finally finished. I know, the ending was a long time coming BUT IT CAME, so be thankful. Last part deals with the aftermath of the battle, and how three of the main characters are going to function with big chunks of them missing. Great to be writing agai
1. Part 1, A bleeding heart

**A long, long time ago in a galaxy far, far away**

**Star Wars: The Dark Empire **

**Episode 1 – Exodus**

_4000 years before the rise of the Galactic Empire, there existed an ancient Sith Empire concealed from the Old Republic in uncharted space beyond the outer rim, created with the specific intent of __conquering the Republic__. For thousands of years it has remained hidden, watching and waiting for the Republic and their Jedi defenders to weaken. _

_Now that moment of weakness has arrived, __the Sith War is over and__ all over the galaxy the Jedi have gone into hiding to combat the silent threat that is destroying them. The Republic's forces are battle weary and their ranks thinned._

_The __Sith empire__ is starting to re-awaken, ready to crush the Republic and create an era of darkness. All it needs is a little time to muster its forces._

_In the Dakotan asteroid field, in the Sedan system on the edge of the empire a small group of Jedi have discovered the threat. Heedless of the danger waiting for them they speed back to the Republic to warn them of the terrible threat that they face._

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**Part 1 – A bleeding heart **

**Dakotan asteroid field, Sedan system**

The Republic shuttle swerved to avoid a large floating rock, a second before it was smashed to pieces by a high-powered laser blast.

"That was close," said Jedi Master Tyron Keln from the pilots seat as the shuttle swooped under a larger rock, followed closely by two smaller fighters, spitting laser fire.

"Wouldn't it be safer to leave the asteroid field and attempt hyperspace, Master?" said Padawan Kaya, a young woman, as the shuttle swerved to avoid rocks right, left, then left again.

"We'll be destroyed in microseconds by the cruiser," said Knight Belaya sharply as one of the fighters hit an asteroid, ripping its wing off. It spun out of control, missing the asteroids and careered off into space. The second fighter continued to dodge the floating rocks, firing at the shuttle. A few of the shots hit and were deflected by the shields.

"Shields down to seventy-five percent," said Master Tyron "why couldn't they have created this thing with some weapons?" he added as they continued to dodge between asteroids.

"You were the one who chose it, Tyron," Belaya reminded him as another two blasts struck them solidly.

"Fifty-nine percent, I was pushed for time and short of options." he retorted.

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Aboard the Sith cruiser the commander mused to himself. He had been ordered to capture at least one of the Jedi on board, but it was going to be difficult to capture them without giving them a chance to escape. The pilot of the shuttle was exceptionally good.

An idea came to him, "Drop a seismic missile to flush them out," he ordered "and make sure it hits as close to them as possible."

"Shall I order our fighter to withdraw Commander Lorn?" inquired lieutenant Quan, one of his subordinates.

For a moment the commander paused. The shuttle was large enough to survive a nearby seismic blast and the debris it would create, but the fighter was not. Withdrawing it might give the enemy a moment's notice, but it would certainly save the pilot. The enemy was unlikely to escape anyway, but if they did he would certainly be killed, and in the most painful fashion imaginable. Then he remembered that his son was a fighter pilot and relented.

"Yes," he said sighing softly "but only once the missile has been dropped."

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On board the shuttle the atmosphere was tense.

"We cannot last much longer like this, Master," said a younger man with a shock of carrot-red hair strapped behind the pilot's seat, as the shuttle rocked violently under another impact.

"Forty-one percent. Garen, I'm doing all I can," replied Tyron.

"The fighter is breaking off" exclaimed Belaya from the co-pilots seat "but our shields are almost depleted, and we have nowhere to run, so why…"

"The Sith cruiser has dropped some kind of missile, and its heading for us" cried Kaya, peering at the ship's instruments in alarm. Tyron took immediate evasive action, and the rocket struck a rock far away from where the shuttle was. What happened next though, took them completely by surprise. The rocket exploded, creating a massive shockwave that shattered the asteroids.

"What in the Force…hold on tight!" cried Tyron as he deftly evaded the flying bits of rock, but then before any of them realized it, the shuttle was in open space.

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"Fire to disable" ordered commander Lorn as the shuttle came in plain sight; his plan had worked out perfectly. The high-powered laser battery blasted off its tail wing and a large chunk of the back section. For a moment the shuttle stayed steady, then it spun out of control towards the nearby planet of Sedan.

"Sir, they're out of range for our tractor-beam, should we pursue?" asked first lieutenant Quan respectfully.

Lorn nodded and was about to give the order, but at that moment a holo-image of a black robed man who looked both powerful and diseased at the same time appeared.

"Do you have them, commander Lorn?" he spoke with a chill that was evident even though the static.

"Nearly Master Fer'rer," said Lorn bowing respectfully low "we have disabled their ship, they are flying on a crash course with Sedan, we were about to pursue and capture."

"Cancel your capture," said the Sith Master "just pursue and make sure that they fall and stay down."

"Of course my Lord." he said, bowing again as the holo-image winked out. He had learned over the years never to question orders from a Sith, no matter how bizarre the orders seemed. It was why he was still alive.

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**Sedan surface**

Two Sith sped slightly above the ground on light landspeeders.

The taller, leaner, slightly older one was Jadan Iscarn. He already showed signs of the dark side in his face, his skin was paler than usual and his brown eyes contained more than a little yellow. His hair was cropped short and spiked, black with red lines running through it. At his sides were two lightsabers. Marka Cabanic sped along beside him. He was noticeably shorter, but still well over average height, his face untouched and quite attractive; although it bore the same cold, focused expression as his companion. His grey eyes searched the horizon; smoke was visible not far in the distance. They were the two most powerful of all Sith Master Rengath Fer'rer's Sith, they were his only apprentices. They had been tasked with the capture of at least one of the Jedi, and the destruction of the rest.

As the two landspeeders approached the crash site, they slowed down as one to a pace not much faster than a man's running speed. This made the speeders almost silent.

The taller, darker Jadan spoke first "If we attack together, we'll just get in each others way." Marka nodded, and Jadan continued, "Since I'm the most powerful, I'll attack the front and you take behind." Marka slowly reached for his double-bladed lightsaber at his side, but Jadan warned him "don't Marka, Lord Fer'rer will be most displeased if I killed… I mean if we, killed each other." and with a sarcastic grin he increased his pace and sped past him.

"Jadan you arrogant spawn of a…" said Marka furiously as he changed his direction and sped up, getting his anger under control as he did so.

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Outside the wrecked shuttle the Jedi were pulling themselves out of the wreck. Kaya, the younger woman, was dazed and cut in a number of places. The younger man, Garen, was using the force to heal her. The older woman, her aunt Belaya, was totally unconscious and had to be carried out by Master Tyron, who set her down gently against a bizarre looking tree and gently stroked the hair out of her face. Kaya's vision slowly cleared, and she came shakily to her feet. Suddenly, through the Force she felt danger approach, she stood dead still with her hand on her lightsaber. That moment, from no-where a horror of a man leapt at Master Tyron. He held two lightsabers, one yellow and the other red, and nearly decapitated the Jedi Master in his initial attack.

Master Tyron had good reflexes however, and he ignited his lightsaber and managed to back away from his tall opponent who was obviously a Sith. Kaya tried to help her Master but was blasted into the shuttle by an unseen blast of Force from behind. Knocking her head against it hard she slid to the floor as the world faded around her.

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Marka emerged from the undergrowth, he held in his hands an ignited white cored, purple-rimmed double-bladed lightsaber. He moved neither fast nor slow, but his aura of deadliness was chilling. Garen moved quickly to intercept him, igniting his own blue lightsaber. "I will defeat you, Sith," he said bravely, spitting the last word. They were to be the last he ever spoke.

Jadan attacked Tyron in a fury, his anger, hatred and aggression fuelling his focus and abilities. Nearby Marka was dueling Garen; Marka fought with cold deadliness, a controlled rage. The two Sith had a huge advantage; they were far more experienced and powerful (despite their years) and had superior weaponry. Even if the two women had been conscious they would still have lost. The only mercy was that it was quick. Marka caught Garen with the recoil of his double-saber in only three moves, chopping him nearly clean in half. He fell with a look of absolute disbelief on his face. Marka gave a flourish, deactivated his double-saber and then stood and watched silently as Jadan fought Tyron.

The Jedi Master in desperation had used the Force to bring his unconscious wife Belaya's lightsaber to his left hand, but he was unused to fighting in such a way. It was no surprise when Jadan feigned, then chopped low, striking off both the Jedi Master's legs. As Tyron fell with a cry, Jadan's lightsaber pierced his heart.

The two Sith looked at each other for a moment, and then Marka nodded and picked up the unconscious girl gently and carried her back to his speeder. It was odd, but as he summoned the two young Jedi's lightsabers to his hands, he felt sad, almost as though he'd just lessened himself. He pushed such thoughts from his mind as he sped off in the landspeeder; they were for the weak. After retrieving the fallen Masters lightsabers Jadan picked up the older woman and carried her back to his landspeeder to follow his hated fellow.

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**The Sedan Sith Academy**

Rengath Fer'rer, the third most powerful of the seven Sith Masters knelt before the holo-image of a man in a thick cloak "My apprentices have tracked them down, Lord Delhano, I have just received word from them that they have killed two men and taken two woman captive."

The voice that came from the other side was more chilling and (if possible) even more evil than the Sith Master's. "That is good news then. The Republic and the Jedi must not be alerted to our presence until we are ready to strike."

"My Lord, all four of them were Jedi." put in Rengath quickly.

"Then they will have interesting information for us, won't they?" replied the Sith Lord, and the holo-image winked out.

Straightening, Rengath pulled up his hood and walked outside, where Marka and Jadan had just got off their speeders. Their two captives had immediately become an object of curiosity, and already students were rushing to see.

Stepping into the courtyard he walked towards his two apprentices. They had so much potential that between the three of them they might even be able to challenge the Dark Lord one day.

All the students gave way before him. Reaching Marka and Jadan he said to them "Put them in your punishment cells, give them a brief mind probe, and then report to me in my meditation chamber". Every Sith had a private punishment cell next to their beds in their chambers to remind them to be obedient at all times, or suffer the consequences.

They each gave a brief nod and a "Yes, Master" and left the courtyard, carrying their prisoner. Rengath left the courtyard, and the crowd slowly dispersed.

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The two apprentices returned promptly; they knew that if they came even a moment late by their master's standards they would be severely punished. Rengath broke off his meditation and stood up, his two students knelt down before. "What did you learn?" he asked them harshly.

Marka spoke first "my captive has been on the run for over four years. Her name is Kaya Weston. She was trained as a Jedi but the order was disbanded before she could reach her Knighthood. She is deeply disappointed about this. She is related to the other woman, but I am not sure how."

His Master nodded "The Jedi order has disbanded, very interesting. I wonder what could have caused them to do that," he knocked Marka across the face with the Force "but I don't want to know how she feels."

"Thank you Master, I will remember," Marka said dispassionately, a thin trickle of blood running down his nose and his lip.

Next Jadan gave his report "my captive was married to the man I killed…easily" he added with relish. "Her name is Belaya Keln, she held the rank of Jedi Knight before the order fell. She believes that the Republic will collapse soon. She would have been expelled from the order had it not been disbanded, due to her marriage."

Rengath nodded, "You are both to extract as much information as possible from the minds of these Jedi, using any and all means available. Do not share it with any besides me… dismissed."

The two students stood up, bowed low and left. Rengath Fer'rer returned to his meditation position. But instead of meditating, he thought. He wondered if it would it would be in his best interests to share this information with the Sith Lords. He wasn't ready to challenge him yet and war would be the perfect cover, but on the other hand if he was ever found out…

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In his chambers Marka wiped the blood away with his hand, then looked at his prisoner and sighed. She was trapped in a shielded cage, unconscious and hurt. He had tried to be as gentle as possible with his mind probing as possible, but it certainly hadn't done her any good. He regarded her, she was a very pretty girl with long reddish brown hair and a strong but beautiful face, and he wondered briefly what colour her eyes were.

The door opened. Marka spurn around, double-lightsaber ready but not ignited, it wouldn't be the first time that one of Jadan's cronies tried to gain favour with him by killing Marka. That he was still alive was a testament to his skill and attentiveness, and at times the stupidity of Jadan's followers.

"Is that any way to greet your old man?" said a familiar voice.

"Dad," said Marka taking two strides towards him and hugging him close "I thought you'd never return."

Marka's father Harn Cabanic had graying hair, but a youthful expression and no traces on his face of the dark side. He put a metallic clawed hand on his son's shoulder, "Well they did certainly keep me out finding potentials recruits for the academy longer than was necessary in that grubby little town." Harn grumbled "But I'm back now, until I get sent off again."

"Don't talk like that," Marka said seriously "we have so much to catch up on."

"Well first things first," said his father, winking at him as he noticing Kaya for the first time "did you choose to punish her, or did she volunteer?"

Marka flushed "She's a Jedi, father, I captured her earlier."

Harn whistled low, "I thought they were only legends, men and women who fought for what was right, for others, not for themselves."

"Careful that no-one else hears your sentiments, especially Master Fer'rer," said Marka slightly worried.

Harn scowled "Rengath is an animal, and I think there is a lot to be said for the Jedi, despite all the lies that we've heard." Marka slumped onto his bed, "What's wrong, son?" asked his father.

Marka sighed, and said "I killed one of them father. He was young, strong, his whole life ahead of him; and I killed him." his father sat down next to him, and Marka continued, "Before you say it, I know that I have killed before, many times. But this time it was different."

"Why" his father asked him softly.

"It was like I was…like I was doing something I shouldn't" he finished lamely "I was doing something terribly wrong, taking the life of one who would use his power to help others."

"Sith don't help others, they only help themselves," his father reminded him gently.

"I don't think that path is for me, not any more." said Marka angrily "I just know that there is so much more than the emptiness that is power."

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On the floor of the punishment cell Kaya smiled through her silent tears. Though he was a Sith, the young man (she didn't know his name) was reacting similarly to young Jedi who were losing their faith in the light side of the Force, if that was so then maybe he might be turned to the light. He may have killed her fellow Jedi, with the help of that other horrible tall Sith, but had a bleeding heart.

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**Malachor V**

Jezebel, the Exile watched Kreia fall, and as had happened with all others she had killed she felt the power flow into her. The old manipulative fool had paid the ultimate price. Still, she had gained more power out of her than the last twenty she had killed, excluding Sion. She was now the most powerful force user ever, but that wasn't enough, she hungered for more. Ever since killing the Jedi masters that had exiled her she had felt wonderfully free of any restraints. Now she needed revenge against just one more person, the one who had caused her to lose her hold on the force in the first place. Then she would be whole again. She looked up into the shattered sky and spoke one word:

"REVAN"

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**The Sedan Sith Academy – Marka's Chambers**

Marka walked into his room after a hard day's training. Towards the end of the day, there had been a fight between his and Jadan's supporters. The end result had been more than a few bruises, some broken bones and one of Jadan's men taken off to hospital in a serious condition.

The academy was divided between his and Jadan's supporters, they were by far the two most powerful of the Sith on the planet, with the exception of Master Fer'rer. If Marka and Jadan had ever chosen to, they could have overthrown him together, but they hated each other far more than Rengath Fer'rer. Both trained the students, but only Marka took it seriously, as was evident by today's skirmish. Marka's supporters had crushed Jadan's, despite being outnumbered. If lightsabers had been drawn, most of them would now be dead.

Among the Sith only weak fighters and prominent Force users used a single lightsaber. Twin-sabers were very common, although the double-bladed variety had some popularity. It was by far the toughest to master, but it was considered by its users as the best. Nobody with a single-blade could possibly best another with a double-blade or twin-blades unless they had a considerable Force advantage. Double-saber against twin-saber was when it got interesting. Women favoured the single blade because of its user-friendliness, to make up for its weakness they always moved in groups for protection.

He de-activated the punishment cell. After patching her up yesterday he knew that Kaya was well on her way to recovery. It had been a shock for him to realize that she had heard at least part of his conversation with his father. He had been careless. If even part of what he had said had become known, then even the Sith that had supported him today would not hesitate to destroy him.

She was sitting in a meditation position facing him "Past the surface, there is the Force." she intoned.

She seemed about to continue when Marka broke her meditation with a loud "It is time for me to question you."

Kaya stood up looking annoyed and stretched her legs, placing her hands above her attractive bottom as she stretched her back. Marka forced himself to look away as she stretched her arms above her head, jutting her breasts forward.

She looked at him directly and asked, "What, never seen a girl stretch before?"

Marka scowled, but his face took on a delicate shade of red "Of course," he muttered.

"Surely you have a lover or wife outside this…place?"

Still looking away he told her "I'm the one who asks the questions…" He struggled to think of a one.

"Is she pretty?"

"…What is your home planet?"

"So you don't have one, hah, I though you Sith lived by your passions!" she told him triumphantly.

He snarled in frustration, "Don't vex me, little girl," he said warningly.

"Don't you 'little girl' me, I'm nearly as old as you, 'little boy'."

Marka growled angrily, "Don't force me to get violent."

Kaya looked at him seriously "I just realized, I don't even know your name."

"Marka, Marka Cabanic" he replied, momentarily taken aback "what is your home planet?" he insisted.

"Kashyyyk, I'm a wookie, can't you tell," she said with an absolutely straight face.

Marka frowned "What's a wookie?" he asked puzzled.

"What I am," Kaya said with a smile, flashing her perfectly even white teeth. "My name's Nomi Sunrider."

Marka smiled "Your name is Kaya Weston, you come from Alderon, you are twenty one standard years old and you traveled with three other Jedi who are now dead." he lied to her smugly.

"So you mind probed me," said Kaya, shuddering slightly "why the questions then?"

"Only lightly, I might need your mind later, I do not intend to destroy it just yet."

She looked at him straight in the eye "I think it has more to do with the sentiments that you were expressing to your father earlier."

He couldn't help but notice that her eyes were a beautiful grey-blue, much like his own. "I will do what ever it takes to increase my power," he nearly shouted, "My master is training me to be the most powerful Sith ever. One day I may even conquer the throne of Dark Lord for myself." He was now very angry, he was finding himself attracted to this enemy who was outfencing him in conversation hands down.

"Will power ever be enough, what happens when you are the most powerful?" she reasoned calmly

"THEN I WILL GAIN MORE POWER" he screamed, maddened to fury by her incessant questioning "AND I WILL DO ANYTHING TO GET THERE, DESTROY ANYTHING, KILL ANYONE; EVEN YOU!"

Kaya smiled serenely "Even as you say those words, I know you don't believe them." she said "As much as you try to deny it, you have no faith in the Sith teachings. What you don't know is that you are searching for the light"

Marka's face went white; he raised his right hand, intent on murder. Then he swung around and struck the wall with such power that it created a cracked dent on the solid rock. He was sure that he had broken every one of his hand bones, despite his use of the Force to increase his power. His face went from white to a deep purple shade.

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"May I use the restroom?" Kaya said. She had found over the years that most foolish males would never admit that they were in pain in front of a woman, and this one was no exception. He nodded soundlessly.

She went though into the next room and closed the door; almost as soon as she shut the door he released his pain with a huge "YAAARRRRRRRRRR" that nearly shook the room. She opened the door, he was crumpled on the floor, moaning and grasping his injured hand. She walked slowly towards him, a smile on her lips and healing in her hands. He couldn't have known that Kaya had just reached a decision, one that would forever alter his life.

She would train him to be a Jedi.

He could make a great Jedi, she knew, one of the greatest ever.

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**Stay tuned for 'The paths are set', Part 2 of Star Wars: The Dark Empire Episode 1 – Exodus**


	2. Part 2, The paths are set

Star Wars: The Dark Empire Episode 1 – Exodus Part 2 – The paths are set 

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**The Sedan Sith Academy – Jadan's Chambers**

Belaya had taken a while to recover from the crash. Now she sat before Jadan in the punishment cell. He must have been forced to give her medical attention; it was something he obviously loathed to do. Belaya had recovered enough to sit up and regard him; he was simply standing there, studying her for a weakness.

She was in her early thirties, moderately attractive with dark eyes and sandy-brown hair. She didn't know that at this very moment Jadan was suffering a wave of intense jealousy of Marka, whose captive was far younger and more attractive. To relieve his frustration he used the force to smash a chair against the wall right next to the punishment cell. Belaya betrayed her nervousness by flinching. She had never felt so alone before.

A small green alien brought some food and drink and placed it on the desk. Jadan nodded once and it withdrew.

Deactivating the punishment cell he motioned to the tray "come, drink, eat." Belaya got up painfully and did so; she was still sore all over. Although she tried to cover it up it must have been obvious to him that she was scared. He sat in front of her as she ate, watching her intently with a cold, unblinking stare. Though she tried to maintain a semblance of calm, when he shifted his weight slightly she couldn't help flinching.

When she had finished eating, she plucked up the courage to ask him "What happened to my friends?"

He looked at her and smiled, it wasn't a pleasant sight. "Dead," he replied simply.

"How?" she cried, even though she had been expecting this response.

"I killed them," he replied, as if killing three Jedi was the most natural thing in the world.

Although she had been preparing herself for such news, her emotions overwhelmed her. She felt rage and anger at the man who had callously killed the three people she had loved the most…her husband, her niece, her padawan. She felt fear of the Sith, of being alone, of being hurt more. She felt grief at her loss. She had been the one who had suggested hiding in the outer rim past Korriban, she was to blame for what had happened. Guilt and confusion welled up inside Belaya as she bent her head and wept silent tears.

"You are a mess, go and clean up." Jadan told her harshly, and she got up as quickly as she could with her aching limbs and crossed the floor to the small restroom. There was no door, and she could feel his eyes on her as she undressed. It made her feel dirty, insignificant. Getting into the Sith's refresher, something that resembled a smaller kolto tank, she reached up for the air mask as the liquid began to fill up at her feet only to find that there was none. For a moment she panicked, then realized that the Sith were probably expected to use their wash time as practice time, which made sense. She filled her lungs with air as the liquid reached her chin, then closed her eyes and concentrated on letting the Force sustain her.

Soon the Liquid went down and disappeared into the bottom of the tank, and Belaya was left dripping and cold, and able to draw breath again. As she opened her eyes slowly, she nearly fainted with fear. The Sith was standing in front of her! She used her hands to cover her breasts and groin quickly; at that point the glass began to slide down. He continued to look at her with that cold, animal-eyed stare until the glass reached the floor, then he reached out and grabbed her. Realizing what he intended to do with her she screamed, she screamed like she had never screamed before; with all of her terror; revulsion and pain.

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**Space above Sedan**

Commander Lorn of the cruiser 'Jaeger' was patrolling the space above Sedan. He had almost finished his two-year tour, and was looking forward to returning to his wife on Kalcuta. Two weeks and four days left on his tour, and he would be able to go home. His daughter would be sixteen by now. She and her mother had been fighting like Jedi and Sith according to the messages he'd received.

He sighed, and was about to call for another caffa to keep him awake, when communications officer Hael called out "Sir, there's been a rebellion. The signal is very faint, but I caught the part where we were ordered to pick up some Sith from Sedan and transport them to the battlegrounds."

Rebellions were not uncommon in Sith space, as people lived under tyranny. Yet every generation some idealist would start a rebellion. They were always ruthlessly suppressed, and then the survivors would keep quiet for at least fourty standard years. Lorn should have expected it; there hadn't been a rebellion for half a century.

This was not a job he was going to enjoy. "What planet is it this time?" he asked wearily.

"Don't know sir, didn't catch that part, I did get the co-ordinates though," said second-lieutenant Hael.

As the communications officer read out the co-ordinates Commander Lorn felt his heart stop, he recognized them as the co-ordinates for Kalcuta. His wife and daughter were in grave danger, and Sith did not take prisoners. He had to warn them.

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**The Sedan Sith Academy**

Marka walked out of his chambers in the morning wondering what to do with that annoying little Jedi Kaya. Last night he had been unable to sleep until he had given her a pillow and blanket, somehow he had sensed her discomfort, and it had made him uncomfortable. And try as he might he couldn't do anything that might hurt her.

Screams were coming from the direction of Jadan's chambers, there were always screams coming from there early in the morning and evenings after training, woman's screams. He couldn't bring himself to tell Kaya that her aunt Belaya was alive and being tortured by Jadan, the Sith who she still had nightmares about (how did he know that?). It would only hurt her (why did he care?).

Kaya was a distraction, and a dangerous one at that. And yet, in her presence he felt calmer and more at peace. Unintentionally he flexed his hand, it was as good as new. Amazing how well she had healed it, no Sith that he had ever seen had been able to heal more than superficial wounds with the Force, perhaps it was a Jedi skill. He had broken nearly every bone in his hand, not to mention the damage he had done to his muscles and what his shattered bones had done to his flesh.

Ever since his first disastrous attempt to interrogate her he had given up trying. He sighed to himself; he could no more hurt her than he could hurt himself. Come to think of it, he could hurt himself, but he couldn't hurt her.

With that knowledge he reached a decision, and sought out his father. He found him nearby in the local mechanic shop getting a check-up on his hand. Harn had lost his hand in a duel many years ago, and had it replaced with a robotic one laced with contortis. They exchanged greetings, and Marka enquired about why he needed to have his hand looked at. His father shrugged "Been a while since I had a check up, and my index finger keeps twitching"

"Sit still," the mechanic ordered him.

"Sorry, he said.

Marka smiled, few Sith in the Empire would ever say that word. "I need to speak to you, alone," he told him quietly.

His father nodded "I'll meet you in the Cantina, after I'm finished here." Marka nodded and stepped out.

As he came out of the mechanic shop his eyes met a familiar scene. Four female adult Sith were knocking around a young girl, a Sith initiate judging by her green robes. The women were part of Jadan's group, but the initiate was not, so he didn't have to get involved. If she was lucky, she would escape with her life, but then he recognized Lucien in the group and his hope for the girl faded. Lucien was well known for her cruel nature and love of killing. As with many Sith her grasp on sanity was questionable.

Then one of the Sith gave the initiate a massive push with the Force, and she flew in his direction. She would die upon striking the ground, he knew that with dread certainty born of Force sensitivity, her head would hit the ground first and her neck would snap. Using the Force, Marka caught her in mid–air and lowered her gently to the ground. It was Sindra, one of the newest recruits to the academy; she had a kind disposition and friendly smile, and as such was an inevitable target. As he helped her to her feet he cursed himself for not assigning somebody to look after her.

Just then the four Sith that had been torturing her moments before came striding up. They recognized him, but they had arrogance in their numbers "Give her to us, Marka," snarled a woman he knew as Tanguy.

Marka knew that at this point he could walk away, and up until a few days ago he would have, but something inside him had changed. He pulled Sindra behind him as he stepped forward and said quietly but firmly "No."

The four Sith were taken aback for a moment, then one of them smiled and said "Well now, I think this hero intends to fiiiiiiiiii" she screamed as she was cut down by Marka's white-purple Double-saber.

Marka had known that after defending the girl the four Sith would certainly try to kill him, so he had struck first before they were ready. He attempted to kill another with a backslash, but these Sith were veterans of many battles, and recovered fast. Marka attacked with blinding speed again, but they fended him off, there were just too many of them, and soon he was forced onto the defensive.

Lucien held her twin sabers low as the three Sith circled Marka "You just made a bad mistake!" she hissed as they attacked.

Dodge, weave, block, counter, attack; Marka's entire world became the duel. A lightsaber came at his head, he blocked it with such force that he knocked the blade upwards, then he swung around in a low 360 degree turn as he ducked under another blade, forcing them all back. Their attacks had been uncoordinated and they had been getting in each other's way. As they pulled back they all blasted at him with lightning. Marka caught one of bolts on his lightsaber, but was forced to use all of his power shielding himself from the other two.

As he fought to withstand their attack Master Fer'rer's words came to his mind.

"_Have a care my young apprentice when you pick your fights, especially with sentients that can use the Force."_ his master had told him _"One opponent is standard, two is very difficult, three is suicide. No matter how good you are, never enter a fight with three or more opponents unless you can kill them __quickly."_

Marka grimaced to himself as the Sith women broke off their attack. He certainly couldn't beat them with the Force; even though the defender always had the advantage in Force battles they had nearly fried him. Lucien barked a series of commands and they attacked him again, coordinated properly this time. In his heart, Marka knew that this was the end for him.

Marka was a whirlwind, blocking in all directions, twisting and turning, but to avoid so many blows was impossible. One of Lucien's lightsabers thrust at his unprotected belly, but then a clawed metallic hand caught hers, stopping her blade. A lightsaber burned though her black heart. Lucien stared in disbelief at the man who had killed her as she fell heavily to the floor.

The two remaining Sith looked at their two opponents, their two dead companions and each other, then turned and ran. As one, Marka and his companion leapt at the fleeing women. There was a piercing shriek, and all was still.

"What took you so long?" said Marka, trying to hide his gratitude by sounding annoyed.

"Well I couldn't save your pretty guts with a twitching hand, now could I?" reasoned Marka's father Harn "It just wouldn't be right!"

————————————————————————————————————————-

Sindra watched in astonishment as the two powerful Sith came closer. One of them came up to her and put his hand on her shoulder.

"Are you alright child?" he asked her.

"Yes thank you Master Marka." she chimed.

She knew how fortunate she was that he had stood up for her, but she didn't trust his motives. If Marka was anything like his legendary namesake she had good reason to be afraid, after all he was a Sith, he must have had some ulterior motive for saving her. And yet, he had risked his life to save hers, what possible motive could he have? She didn't have anything to offer him.

"Come to me this afternoon after practice session and we'll make sure that this never happens again. I'll protect you Sindra, I promise," he told her gently.

She nearly fainted with relief, no matter what his intentions were she was now under his protection, and she might live another year. She opened her mouth to thank him, but he was already walking away towards the cantina with his father.

————————————————————————————————————————-

"That was a very kind thing you did there, saving that girl" said Harn to his son as they walked into the cantina and signaled for a drink "and you also made it have meaning by giving her your protection, so it isn't just a small wasted action."

They were given their drinks; Marka gave a small nod and picked his one up. "I know what you are, father"

Harn stopped in mid-sip and said, spluttering "And what…" cough "…what would that be?" cough, cough.

"A Greys" his son told him, taking a sip "I've suspected for ages, and known for a while."

"What makes you say that?" Harn asked his son warily, clearing his throat with one last cough.

"You are different to other Sith, you actually care about other people. Power is not your goal. And when I heard you admire the Jedi it was obvious."

Harn looked at him intently "so what now, do you report me? Master Fer'rer would undoubtedly reward you."

Marka shook his head. "I want to join," he replied simply.

Harn smiled "That's the answer I was hoping you'd give," he said, and in the crowded cantina – where there was too much noise for anyone to overhear – Harn Cabanic taught his son the first lessons of the Greys, an order that had survived in the shadow of the empire for nearly a thousand years.

————————————————————————————————————————-

**The Sedan Sith Academy – Rengath Fer'rer's chambers**

After the afternoon training was over Marka and Jadan were summoned to Master Fer'rer's chambers. Marka was feeling quite good about himself, he had arranged for two of his supporters, Icadrin and Venoak, to watch out for young Sindra. They would also be watching out for three other young Sith initiates who were in danger of being picked on by others. Although Marka did it out of the goodness of his heart it was likely to profit him in the future.

Master Fer'rer was waiting for them. "There has been a revolt on the planet Kalcuta. We have been ordered to assist." Rengath stood up "I cannot lead our forces, as I have been ordered to present one of our Jedi before Lord Delhano himself. The one who's Jedi I take will have the opportunity to lead my forces on Kalcuta." Marka and Jadan looked at each other, they both knew how much prestige they could gain among the Sith in the upcoming conflict. "The other will stay behind to administer the academy in my absence."

Jadan spoke first "My Jedi is older and more experienced, she would know far more things of interest. I am far more powerful than Marka could ever hope to be; also I outrank him. Therefore I should go." He leered at Marka with discoloured teeth.

Marka simply smiled and said, "I agree with Jadan." Both Rengath and Jadan turned to stare at him, Jadan and Marka never agreed upon anything, but Marka continued, "About the fact that his Jedi is older and more experienced than mine, but not that he is not more powerful than me. I also agree that he should go and fight in your stead Master, but only because if you left the academy to him there would be nothing to return to by the time you came back. I know that I could lead your forces better. Rank is no substitute for cunning."

Jadan turned such a deep shade of red that his facial veins showed. Master Fer'rer quickly put his hand on his lightsaber as a warning. "Then it is agreed," he said quickly "Jadan, bring your captive to me; then gather your equipment. Your transport is already waiting for you."

————————————————————————————————————————-

**Korriban – Naga Sadow's Tomb**

The Exile, Jezebel Torin, was meditating inside Naga Sadow's tomb, feeding off the ancient Sith Lords power, and at the same time the power of the others that had fallen victim to the temple in the past. She could feel Visas, Jaq Rand, and Mical in the three other tombs doing the same thing; the power was flowing through their bonds with her, making her stronger. She did not need the extra strength, she was already strong enough to rip this very temple apart and put it back together, but it helped to sate her insatiable hunger for power. She would have liked to have used Bao-Dur to help the others, but he had been very withdrawn from her recently, especially after Malachor V. For some reason he didn't have that annoying remote buzzing around him any more. If he could no longer be trusted, she would have to kill him, soon.

Something was in front of her; she exited her meditation and opened her eyes, before her stood the shade of a bald, tattooed Sith of average height.

"Who are you?" she asked the apparition, annoyed for the interruption.

"_I am Uthar Wynn, and I was the Headmaster of the academy, serving directly under Lord Malak."_ he said sadly.

Jezebel cackled, "Ancient history. Malak was defeated by Revan, the Academy is destroyed."

The shade shook his head _"So much has changed, so much is lost."_ he said mournfully _"I thought that Malak killed Revan."_

Jezebel sneered, "Malak failed, the Jedi made Revan their puppet, and although he learned his true identity like a weak and pathetic fool he stayed loyal to the light. He killed Malak and destroyed the Star Forge, the greatest weapon of the dark side since Malachor V."

Uthar shook his head in wonder _"I never knew," _he said quietly, and then looked at her for a moment thoughtfully.

"_You also follow the dark side, I can feel it,"_ he said finally _"If you continue on this path, you will end up like such as I, a powerless shade." _

She sneered again "I don't intend ever to die, so that will never happen"

Uthar gave a sad smile _"You sound like my former master, Jorak Uln, he used to say 'a true Sith never dies'. He did in the end of course; a student killed him. The same one that in the end killed me."_

Jezebel just looked at him.

Uthar sighed _"Why are you here"_ he asked sadly.

"My late mentor mentioned that Revan came here searching for a Star Map. He came to this temple and killed you. What do you know about him?"

Uthar looked shocked _"The student that killed me was Revan!"_ he gave a sad laugh _"at least I was killed by the best."_

"What do you know of him?" the Exile demanded, and again Uthar sighed sadly.

"_Nothing important, he was the best student by far, he completed all his tasks with ease and all who challenged him died."_ he paused _"Except Yuthora, but I only saw that as I was dying"_

"Is that all?" she said disappointed.

"_Yes,"_ Uthar replied honestly.

"Then I have no further use for you," she told him, and used the Force to drain the power out of his spirit.

"_NNNOOOOOoooooo……"_Uthar screamed, the sound dying as he faded from sight.

Using the Force to part an acid river that stood in her way, Jezebel walked up a corridor that lead to large metallic apparatus surrounded by Sith statues that she supposed must be the Star Map. As she came near it, it activated, opening up and causing a metallic ball to rise. A map of the galaxy appeared, with the co-ordinates for four other planets on it. Looking at them closely she recognized them as Kashyyyk, Manaan, Tatooine and Dantooine. That was where she would go. Perhaps there she could find more clues about where Revan went.

————————————————————————————————————————-

**The Sedan Sith Academy**

Marka was meditating in his chambers the evening after Jadan had left to help stop the rebellion. There was something…different about him, he could sense it, and he could almost taste it. Before he got a chance to isolate its source, Ramon burst into his room "The Master has caught a traitor, he has called for full attendance, immediately." he reported and ducked out.

"I'm onto it," said Marka, breaking his meditation and grabbing his navy-blue cloak. As he prepared to leave Kaya looked at him quizzingly – he wasn't telling her to get back her cell, but he had no time now. Being the Masters only apprentice present he would be expected to be there even quicker than the others. As he sprinted towards the courtyard he had a strange feeling of dread, a premonition of evil. He got them almost daily here … still this one was different, it was sharper, more… personal? He reached the courtyard in good time, just before the main crowd. He watched the young students, old students, Sith, guards and all workers of the complex filing in. "This might take a while, I wonder why it is so important?" he said to nobody in particular as he took his position and adjusted his hood over his head. With nothing to do, he thought back to the lesson his father had given him earlier in the day.

"_The Greys live in the shadows," Harn had said "we strike from the unknown… we hide in plain sight; where no-body would think to look. Many have tried to end us, and yet we survive. For the path of darkness does not hold all the answers, but neither does the path __of the light;__ that is the first and most important lesson of the Greys" _

"_What is the Greys code, father?" Marka had asked him._

"_There are no absolutes" his father had replied, "Everything is shades of grey_

_To know the Force, I must know all facets of it_

_To know life, I must experience all it offers_

_I will find my centre of my being_

_For when I reach balance, I have peace." _

_His father had continued: "There is an ancient Greys prophecy, the one of the hearts of the __Force. They__ will come in a time of unparalleled troubles, death, pain and loss. Even the Force itself will suffer. They will experience everything of life and the Force, and __create the longest lasting peace that the Galaxy will ever know."_

_Marka had been silent for a moment, and then said, "I understand the balance part, but what is a __centre?"_

_Harn had smiled "You will know when you find it. For me, it was your mother. I loved her from the…"_

The sudden silence in the courtyard broke through his concentration; he turned slightly to see his Master through the corner of his eye sweeping towards him. Rengath half-carried; half-dragged the bent over broken form of a man in his right hand, a feat that would not have been possible without using the Force. Anger was etched in every movement of his Master's body.

As his Master reached him he threw the man forward, to almost the edge of the raised platform that they stood on.

As Marka looked at the wrecked form of the man, his heart broke. He knew that moment without a doubt that it was his father; feeling for his Force signature only confirmed it. He must have been discovered, and now he was going to die. There was nothing that Marka could do to help him.

————————————————————————————————————————-

In Marka's chambers Kaya broke her meditation. Marka was in pain, terrible pain. The intensity of it was shocking, and she knew it must be serious. And yet, how could she feel this? Normally only the most powerful of Jedi Masters could sense intense emotions from other Force-sensitives.

————————————————————————————————————————-

Master Fer'rer was speaking "This man tried to free a Jedi prisoner. He has betrayed me and all Sith. As such there can be only one punishment. However I am merciful, and I will grant him a quick death."

Marka felt pain at his words, but also a measure of relief. If his father was fated to die this day he did not want him to suffer, Marka did not think he would be able to stand by and idly watch. Even so he couldn't understand why his father had tried to free the Jedi Belaya, it was just too rash. His father often did things to help others, but to try and free a Jedi from the clutches of a Sith Master…

His father stirred on the ground, and Marka shot a thought at him sadly _"Why father, what did you hope to achieve?"_

His father's undamaged arm twitched, and Marka was only just able to catch his mental response _"Terrible, terrible things…should not be done to any woman__…my beloved…they__ hurt you, didn't they? So powerless…never strong enough to defend…couldn't let it happen… not again…not to anybody!"_

Tears were pouring down his fathers face, and Marka found that his own eyes were wet. If it hadn't been for his hood the entire academy would have seen him weep, and if any saw his tears they would take it as a sign of weakness. He focused on what his master was saying.

"…Though it is a grievous offense, it is not the reason why I have called you here. It is a much happier reason. It is because before I leave I will be granting the rank of Dark master to one of my apprentices."

Dark master was a rank only given to the most powerful senior apprentice/s of one of the seven Sith masters. A Dark master was second only in rank to a Sith master. Jadan had achieved the rank seven months before.

"One strong in the force, whose power might one day even surpass my own." Rengath continued.

Marka's eyes were streaming with tears; he no longer cared about anybody seeing them, for he knew what was coming. Jadan had had a lover that he had cared for greatly, too much in Master Fer'rer's eyes. Seven months ago he had been made to kill her for his promotion. Marka's heart had gone out for his opponent that day, but ever since that day Jadan had been fully consumed in the dark side. The reason for the gathering was now painfully obvious.

————————————————————————————————————————-

Kaya clutched her heart. The feeling was growing inside her, and it was getting worse. Every stab of his emotion was like it was running through her heart as well. She reached out to comfort him, as tears ran down her cheeks.

————————————————————————————————————————-

Marka noticed that his master was now motioning for him to step forward; he hadn't been paying attention for the last few words. As he did so his master put a hand on his shoulder "A true Sith holds no attachments," he told him forcefully "prove yourself worthy of the name."

Rengath grasped Harn with the Force and forced into a kneeling position facing the crowd.

Marka steeled himself for what he had to do. His steps were heavy, and gravity seemed to be crushing him. He missed a step and nearly fell, but as he stumbled he felt a strange sensation, almost as though somebody was reaching out to him, someone who cared.

His fathers head was down as Marka approached him from behind _"Forgive me father"_ he pleaded.

"_There is nothing to forgive"_ his father told him weakly _"will you please listen to my one last instruction son?"_

"_Anything, father"_

"_Seek out Laman O'del"_

"_I love you"_

"_I know"_

At that moment Marka swore to himself that whatever it cost him, he would be the end of the entire Sith order, and particularly Rengath Fer'rer. He would become powerful enough to defeat them all; no matter the path he had to take, no matter the cost to him; for he now had nothing left. He would do anything; betray anyone, destroy anything; to rid the universe of their foul presence. He could not allow them to inflict any more pain to anyone than they already had. And when he had succeeded, if he still lived, he would travel everywhere, healing the wounds that they had created.

Tears streaming unashamedly from his face in front the entire academy he reached for his belt.

And ignited his lightsaber.

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**Stay tuned for 'A very long night', Part 3 of Star Wars: The Dark Empire Episode 1 – Exodus**


	3. Part 3, A very long night

**Star Wars: The Dark Empire **

**Episode 1 – Exodus **

**Part 3 – A very long night**

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**Hyperspace, En Route to Sedan**

Laman O'del rested his head against his cushioned headrest. He would be arriving on Sedan in about 8 hours, and it would probably be wise to get some rest before then. Not that it was easy to get any sleep in a single-seater.

Laman had come by Marka's request; he was the Equilum, the head of the Greys. He had once been a good friend of Harn's. The two of them had had great adventures in their youth, and at the time they had been closer than brothers. But an incident involving a pretty girl that they had both fallen in love with had driven them apart. She had chosen Harn; the rift that had created had caused them to break all contact.

Harn had intended to marry her after she gave birth to Marka, but she had died in the act. Laman had tried to console Harn after the devastating loss, but there was no consolation to be had. Their friendship had never recovered, and they had lived separate lives, communicating only in matters of the Greys. Even so, he was appalled to hear of Harn's death, and the manner of it. Such things were regarded as normal among the Sith, they shouldn't be.

Harn and Laman had both been disenchanted by the Sith in their youth, and had rescued three Greys in one of their many adventures. They had later joined the order, just after the conclusion of one of the most extensive purges. At the time there had only been eight Greys left. The order had recovered to some extent since then, with Laman rising to the chief position.

While Laman was intrigued by young Marka's need to speak to him, the real reason why he had set out immediately was that he wanted to see the boy. He hadn't seen Marka since he had been a baby, "Does he take after his father or mother?" he wondered aloud. At that point he wished that he was traveling with somebody else, or at least had an astro-droid on his wing to talk to.

With nothing better to do, he closed his eyes and began to snore softly. The ship sped on into the darkness of space.

——————————————————————

**Manaan – Alto City**

"The General's gone mad," said Bao-Dur "we have destroyed the last remnants of the Jedi order and now we're hunting for Revan, the savior of the galaxy."

"But Revan started the Sith War," reasoned Mical.

"And ended it," argued Bao-Dur "He saved the Republic from the Mandalorians."

"But he took Jezebel's connection to the Force away from her."

"Is that you talking, Blondie?" asked Bao-Dur, using Rand's deriding name for Mical "or your bond to her. Don't you see it? just by following her we are destroying the very Republic we swore to protect."

Further away the screams and explosions were getting louder.

"Even now she is ripping apart this city and torturing people just so she can get a few scraps of information about Revan." Bao-Dur continued, "Think of what this will do to the Republic"

"No more kolto," said Mical softly "thousands more soldiers will die every month."

"And when war comes, tens of thousands will need its healing properties. And this is just the beginning of what she will do." Bao-Dur sighed, looked out to sea and then continued "I can sense war coming Mical, just over the horizon. I don't know who it will be against, but it be brutal, worse even than the Sith war. We will need Revan then."

"I can sense it too" said Mical quietly "you're right, Bao-Dur, Jezebel has gone mad. I've done terrible things in my time with her, against my better judgment. When I am with her I lose all control of myself, I am a slave to her will. But what can we do?"

"We must break her hold on us, break the bond." Bao-Dur told him "And to protect the Republic, rebuild the Jedi order."

"Can it be done?" asked Mical doubtfully.

Bao-Dur turned to him and smiled "Trust in the Force." he told him, and sat down on the floor in a meditation position, with his lightsaber on his lap. After a moment Mical joined him, sitting opposite Bao-Dur, in the same position. Together they slowly unwound the bonds that linked them to the most powerful, evil Force User ever to have existed. It was a long, slow, arduous process.

But they knew that on the other side there was hope.

——————————————————————

Jezebel Torin threw down the broken body of the Roland Wann. The Republic officer had given some interesting information to her about Revan and the Star Map, even now Jaq and Visas were speeding down in a submersible to the abandoned research facility where Revan had found the Star Map. All of a sudden she felt her strength drain away from her, she staggered to stand.

"Query: Master are your primary functions in need of maintenance?" said HK-47, turning his head slightly to face her.

She shook her head "Bao-Dur and Mical have broken their bonds with me." It was the same feeling, although less intense, as when Kreia had knocked her unconscious on Dantooine. That must have been when her bond with Kreia had been broken, for she had never felt her presence after that.

"Amused statement: Master these men appear to have affected you most profoundly."

Jezebel scowled, and swung at the droid, igniting her red rimmed, white-cored lightsaber as she did so. The blow sent a shower of sparks into the air. Although his contortis-woven armour prevented him from taking any serious damage, HK-47 was knocked back a few meters by the force of the blow.

De-activating her lightsaber she said, "Since you want to be smart, you can go and kill them. Report to me when they are dead. And take the beast with you."

HK-47 pulled himself up off the floor with a long furrow on his chest "Commentary: Oh Master you are a harsh Mistress, I like you" he said, and retrieved his fallen rifle as he went off to do her bidding.

Jezebel slowly began to get her fluctuating energies under control.

——————————————————————

Bao-Dur and Mical were sprinting towards the hangar.

"I saw a fighter capable of hyperspace in here" cried Bao-Dur "it's a single seater, but I think that we could both…"

As they rounded the corner they say that the fighter was still there, but in front of it was HK-47 and Hanharr.

"Warning: Lay down your weapons meatbags, or I shall activate my assassination protocols."

Hanharr roared in demented agreement, spittle running from his jaw.

Mical froze in fear. The skeletal droid was the most effective killing machine he had ever seen, and the wookie was nearly as dangerous.

"I'll take the droid that should have shot when he had the chance." said Bao-Dur as he ignited his blue lightsaber and began his charge. Mical drew and ignited his green lightsaber as he ran close behind Bao-Dur.

HK-47 sent a steady stream of shots at the two of them as they ran forward; they used their lightsabers to deflect them. Mical deflected one of the shots into Hanharr, the huge wookie gave a roar of pain and anger, and charged at him.

Mical had never trained to be a master of the lightsaber, he had preferred to focus on the Force, and as such would never last in a duel against the mad wookie. So when Hanharr attempted to take off his head with his first strike, Mical ducked and blasted the wookie with the Force. Hanharr flew backwards, landing past the edge of the Hagar where the metal sloped downwards towards the central sea. The huge wookie was force to drop his weapons and use his claws to slow his slide. Hanharr was out of the fight. By the time he climbed back up, Mical and Bao-Dur would be long gone.

Bao-Dur attempted to leap at the assassin droid to close the distance between them. It was a bad mistake. The deadly droid simply shifted his aim and shot him through the chest while he was still in the air.

Mical gasped, too shocked to even cry out as Bao-Dur fell limply at the droids feet. The Iridonian's lightsaber flew out of nerveless hands and landing a good few meters away. HK-47 shifted its sights toward him, and Mical knew that he was about to die.

"Statement: you're dead meat, meatbag" said HK-47 pleasantly.

As the droid squeezed the trigger Bao-Dur grabbed the droids rifle and forced it up into the air. Mical watched in horror, as out of the droids feet extended three claws.

"Impressed statement: Meatbag with wounds such as yours, you should be dead." said HK-47, and with that the assassin droid casually raised his left leg and ripped Bao-Dur's abdomen open.

Bao-Dur gasped as his insides landed on the floor. With incredible courage he shoved his artificial arm into the droids chest circuits

"This is atonement for all I have done" he cried, as electricity started to sparkle over him and HK-47.

"Meat…what…you…" stuttered the assassin droid, his red eyes flashing on and off. Then he exploded.

Mical ran to Bao-Dur's fallen body and took his head in his arms as bits and pieces of HK-47 began to rain down. Looking at Bao-Dur he knew immediately that he was beyond aid. The damage done to him though was far less than what he had done to HK-47. Right now the biggest piece left of the terrible droid was its legs.

Bao-Dur raised his head slightly in Mical's arms "Go to Telos," he told him weakly "to the hidden academy in the polar region. The knowledge of the Jedi must be preserved."

"I will, my friend," said Mical, tears leaking out of his eyes.

"Friend" said Bao-Dur faintly "it has been so long since anybody called me that…too long. I would be honoured to call you friend."

Mical smiled weakly through his tears, Bao-Dur smiled back.

The next moment Bao-Dur gasped and struggled for air, clawing weakly at Mical's shoulder. After a moment his eyes glazed, he released the air in his lungs in a final sigh.

"Goodbye, my friend," said Mical through his sobs. He set his head down gently on the floor and closed his eyes with his fingers.

Slowly, Mical got up and walked towards the fighter. He summoned Bao-Dur's lightsaber to his hand and attached it to his belt, a memoir to his friend. For some reason as he got into the fighter he felt compelled to take the droids metallic legs with him, even though one was still dripping with Bao-Dur's blood. For a moment he was inclined to resist.

Then his friend's words came back to him_ "Trust in the Force"_

Steeling himself he summoned them, and closed the cockpit.

——————————————————————

**The 'Jaeger', Space above Kalcuta**

Lorn was a broken man. All his life he had served the Sith and never believed in their cause. Now to give his wife and daughter any hope of survival he was betraying his masters, to a cause that again he didn't believe in. To further complicate the matter further his son was in one of the fighter teams that was patrolling the system. Lorn was secretly giving information to the rebels to save his wife and daughters lives that might cost his own and his son's.

Pulling himself together he turned around to see Dark Master Jadan striding towards him. Quickly he focused on putting up mental walls to stop Jadan from discerning his true intent.

"Commander, are the beasts ready for transit?" barked Jadan

"Nearly Master," he said deferring "they will be within the next few hours."

Jadan grunted and exited the room. They were attacking a major city by the name of Theron tomorrow, Lorn had warned the defenders. He had been in contact with a man who called himself Never. A man he had seen on a number of occasions but still could not put a face to.

He could now only hope now that they knew of some way to fight against Rancor's.

——————————————————————

**The Sedan Sith Academy – Marka's (new) Chambers**

Equilum Laman O'del was sitting facing Marka, who was at the head of the large durasteel table. From what Laman had gathered so far, Rengath Fer'rer had left eight days ago with the Jedi Belaya, and Marka was now in charge. Marka was truly an amazing young man, with lightsaber skills second to none and strength in the Force nearly greater already than Laman's own (and that always improved with age). He also had the ability to sway people with his convictions. When he spoke, people listened, qualities Laman wished he had. He bore little resemblance to either parent, although his brows reminded Laman slightly of his mother.

As the interim Master of the academy Marka had moved into more expansive quarters, and now had a serving droid. They had been talking for a while, and Laman was now ready to pop the question.

"So you wish to join our order?" Laman asked him.

Marka shook his head "No," he said "But I cannot be a Sith anymore. I have no faith in their Order of hatred and power."

"You could find all the answers you seek in our teachings" Laman pleaded with him "didn't you want to join us?"

"That was before my father died," Marka said softly.

"Wouldn't it be a fitting tribute to his memory, to join the order that he spent his life serving?"

Marka didn't answer him. He stood up and walked to the window. Then he suddenly burst out laughing.

Joining him by the window Laman said, "What's so funny?" taken aback by the sudden change in the young mans emotions.

"The first line of the Greys…your code" said Marka, still grinning "There are no absolutes."

"What's so funny about that?" Laman asked him coolly.

"It just occurred to me, _that_ in itself is an absolute statement."

Privately Laman admitted to himself that the lad was good. Few were able to see that so fast. He probably didn't like the vagueness of the code either.

"So you believe in absolutes?" asked Laman

Marka looked at him straight in the eye "don't you?"

"And you would rather become a Jedi!" said Laman accusingly.

"Don't get me wrong, I think that both the Greys and the Jedi know part of the truth, just not the whole truth." said Marka as he motioned to his droid, who gave them each a glass of water, laced with synthetic fruit flavours.

Whetting his throat Marka continued, "I want to turn this entire academy away from the Sith teachings. I would have preferred to train them in Jedi ways and then struck a balance, but that is not an option available to me."

"So instead of you joining our order, you want the entire academy to join it instead?" said Laman, spluttering on his water in astonishment.

"How many are there in your order?"

Laman looked Marka up and down for a moment; he could trust him. Sighing he admitted "forty three".

Marka dropped his glass in shock "So few!" he exclaimed, "I was expecting at least hundred."

"There have been many purges over the last few hundred years" said Laman sadly as he watched the serving droid clean up the spilled drink and broken glass "even at the height of our power there were only two hundred and fifteen in our order."

"Then this is the chance to reinforce it" Marka exclaimed "If we send help to the rebellion, we can fight the Sith head on, with support. I have heard talk of a mysterious shadow-man aiding the rebellion; they say he has Sith powers. If we can get in contact with him…" he left it hanging.

Laman nodded; he had heard enough to suspect that the shadow-man was far more than just a rumour. "If we aid the rebellion, do you think they can win?" he asked nervously.

"Perhaps, Equilum," said Marka carefully "bring twenty of your order here to train my charges, send the rest to Kalcuta to strengthen the defenders. If we can stall the Sith for just a year, by the time the rebellion there has been defeated there will be over four hundred in your order"

Laman licked his lips nervously "four hundred! There has never been so many in our order, ever."

"Then now is your chance," said Marka boldly "time to make a stand."

"No, no, no" said Laman "It's not our way. We strike from the shadows."

"And die" finished Marka "stand with me in the light, and know victory."

"But what if the rebellion fails and the Sith come after us, what then?"

"We'll think of something if it comes to that" Marka assured him.

For nearly an hour afterwards they debated: Who their allies might be, and how could they stall the Sith in order to grant more time to the rebels. They agreed that they would give as much aid as possible to the rebels, and incite more planets to rebel. Getting in contact with the mysterious shadow-man would also help. The rebels could never possibly prevail against the huge Sith Fleet and armies, but if the rebellion spread to enough planets the Sith couldn't possibly fight them all at the same time.

Equilum Laman had thrown his lot and that of all the Greys in with Marka Cabanic; there was just something about the lad.

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**Kalcuta surface – Theron city outskirts**

The two moons where bright as Jadan signaled the go-ahead to the signalman. The timer began, three minutes and counting down until two hundred and fifty fully-grown Rancor's were released on the unsuspecting defenders of Theron. He could just make out the outline of the city in the dark; they would never know what hit them. Rancors were as big as a small building at full growth.

Over the past few years Jadan had developed a nearly foolproof way of controlling Rancor attacks. The huge beasts could be baited, but this was highly dangerous and had inconsistent results, not to mention that it did not work with large numbers of them. They couldn't be tamed easily either, and even if they were they couldn't be trusted at full growth. The only thing that they feared was fire, but not just any fire, intense; bright fire that radiated heat. Jadan had set up a long line of barrels filled with liquid plasma behind the Rancor cages, when he ignited them the beasts would run away from them and towards the city.

It had been incredibly difficult to navigate their huge cages stealthily through the jungle, but it would be worth it. Jadan privately wondered if there would be anybody alive when the main force arrived. He almost felt sorry for the defenders. Almost.

One minute and counting down. Suddenly the jungle was filled with explosions. The enemy was hammering them with artillery. He leapt out of the way, a second before the ground that he had been standing on exploded. Soldiers were running everywhere, trying to find cover; shells set some of the plasma barrels alight. Jadan saw a soldier covered in burning plasma run shrieking into the forest, he jumped high into the tree above him as burning plasma was sprayed over the place where he had been. Without his Force abilities none of the other soldiers could escape the carnage as he had, they ran about alone and in small groups trying to escape the explosions.

There was a loud resounding click, and Jadan groaned. The timer had expired and now the Rancor's were being released. The line of burning plasma was not in place, the artillery that was still raining down had only lit a few of the barrels. Maddened from the noise, confused by the bright lights and fearful of the burning plasma, the Rancor's proceeded to hunt down Jadan's men with impunity.

All was not lost he realized. If he could get to the primary controls (that his men had vacated) he could activate all the remaining plasma barrels, chasing the Rancors towards the city. Then three terrible things happened that made him wish he had stayed at the academy.

Firstly: Two massive Rancor's started ripping the primary controls to pieces; they were even fighting each other for the choice pieces to destroy.

Secondly: Far in the distance Jadan saw that the enemy city had raised its own burning plasma wall. There was now no chance that even some of the Rancor's would wander there. Jadan began to suspect foul play; they were just too well prepared and informed for his attack.

Thirdly: Looking in the other direction he saw the Legion's advance guard coming through the trees, with the rest of the assault force close behind. They must have seen the explosions and assumed that the attack had happened ahead of schedule. They would run into two hundred and fifty angry, confused and frightened Rancor's, bred for their size and ferocity. Beasts so tough, conventional lasers couldn't pierce their hide.

Summoning up his courage, Jadan prepared to leave his safe perch. If he was to have any hope of living when he reported to his Master, he had better make sure that the bulk of the force survived, they did not have enough of the necessary equipment to fight so many Rancors. Artillery blasts continued to shake the jungle. Jadan dropped down from his tree.

It was going to be a _very _long night.

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**The Sedan Sith Academy – Marka's (new) Chambers **

Marka was meditating in his large new chambers. Over the past two weeks he had spent a lot of time coming to terms with his father's death. Meditation had helped, but if he was totally honest with himself it was really his talks with Kaya that had helped him get through this terrible period. He now ate every meal with her, often staying long after they had finished just to enjoy her company. She had also lost loved ones, one of them by his hand; something she still had not forgiven him for, but she could relate to his pain. As he meditated Marka reached again to find what was different about him, he tried to isolate its source.

Before he could discover it, a part of his conscious mind heard his serving droid say "Greetings Sirs and Madame, I am afraid that Master Marka is busy at the moment, could you please try…" there was a loud metallic crash.

Marka broke his mediation; it was not like his serving droid to stop in mid-sentence. He stood up as he felt the Force signatures of three people enter behind him. The violent intent was almost oozing off them, but there was something else there, fear?

"Turn around and depart" he told them coldly, facing away "I haven't seen your faces yet." His voice boomed loudly in the empty chamber.

"Brave words from the man who murdered the flesh of my flesh," said a voice that he recognized as Lucia, Lucien's twin sister.

"It was my father who killed her. He is dead now, by my hand. Go now if you want to live," he said, reaching for his double-bladed lightsaber.

There was a pause, "You started the fight, you shall pay the price." said a male voice that Marka knew as the late Lucien's lover.

"And pay in blood for our friends that you murdered." said another male voice that Marka supposed was Lucia's lover.

"Did anybody see you come in?" he asked curiously, still facing away from them.

"No-one," said Lucia smugly "and none shall see us leave either." He heard the hissing sound of lightsabers being ignited.

"Oh believe me, _nobody _will" Marka smiled, his voice dripping with absolute confidence and contempt for his opponents. He was badly outnumbered, and unless he provoked them into rash action, or caused them to doubt their abilities he wouldn't stand a chance.

Lucia took the bait hook, line and sinker "Get him boys" she screamed. As the two men leapt him with Force enhanced strength she threw her double-saber at him.

In one movement Marka ignited his double-saber and double back flipped between the two men. Lucia's weapon struck the far wall, de-activating and falling harmlessly to the ground. Marka landed a few meters in front of her and twisted around, blasting her astonished form with lightning from nearly point-blank range. The force of it was so great that she was hurled backwards and crushed into the wall, dropping limply beside his broken serving droid.

Marka strode to where the two men lay. One was missing his head and shoulders, and definitely dead. The other was cut in half just below the lungs and was quickly fading. For a moment Marka considered leaving him, then he sighed and gave him the mercy of a quick death. Inspecting Lucia's smoking form afterwards he noticed that she bore a strong resemblance to somebody he knew very well.

Marka smiled, a plan had just come to his mind.

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**Pandema – Meeting chambers of the Dark Lord**

Rengath took a moment to run his eyes around the Sith circle of nine that he was a part of. Seven in the circle were Sith masters, including him. The other two were the Sith Lord and his apprentice, Lord Delhano Sorge.

Nobody knew the true name of the Sith Lord, the only name he had ever been known as in Rengath's knowledge was 'the Messiah', or 'Darth Messiah'. No one knew what he looked like either. One could stare directly into his face and not see anything. Few even heard him speak; mostly his apprentice spoke for him. Rengath wished he knew the secret to his power; he was beyond doubt the most powerful force user ever to have existed. None could sense the extent of his power though, so rumours were all Rengath could go by. He had even found a way of living forever, controlling the Sith empire since soon after they had left Korriban, 1000 years ago. He had been the Dark Lord of the Sith for over 900 of those years. His eternal dominion over the Sith was the only thing that prevented them from disintegrating into civil wars, due to power hungry nature of the Sith. While Sith masters came and went frequently in power struggles with their apprentices and other Sith masters, the Sith Lord never changed. He also made sure any internal power struggles did not get out of hand, and that there was always seven Sith Masters, never more never less. A ranking system had been devised many centuries ago, which ensured that all Sith Masters would try gain notice and appreciation from him. The rewards for doing so were great, and suffering Darth Messiah's displeasure was something nobody had yet survived.

Lord Delhano spoke "Now that we all have had a chance to glean information from the Jedi whore and share it, the master wishes to know your thoughts."

In the past few days the Jedi Belaya had been passed from Sith master to Sith master. Eventually she had been brought the Dark Lord of the Sith himself, although Rengath had heard said that it was actually his apprentice Delhano that had conducted the inquisition on his behalf. Under such unspeakable horrors that would have made most Sith quake, she had broken and fallen to the dark side. When this meeting was over Rengath would continue his instruction of her, she could be useful in destroying the rebellion. Besides, he could use a female slave to relieve his needs from time to time.

The other Sith Masters were busy discussing the different courses of action that they could follow.

"We should strike now before the Republic gets a chance to recover." said the voice of a masked woman. All the Sith masters came to such meetings robed and masked, the idea was that they never found out each others true identities, use of names in the meetings was also forbidden. They all made it their business to find out each others identities however, so the entire exercise was pointless. She was Tinlae D'eath; as the only woman amongst the Sith masters her identity had been the easiest for Rengath to work out. She was ranked sixth amongst the seven Sith masters.

The voice of Gyrion Payner, fourth of the masters, came from behind his mask "But then we would be unable to properly crush the rebellion on Kalcuta and the rebellions that are brewing on many of our planets. There are reports of a man of great character who is appearing on all of these rebellious planets and stirring up the locals to resist us. Fully nine planets are on the verge of open rebellion. If they were to join up…"

"We would be defeated from within," said Hrayn Babbadon, second of the masters "subjugating our own planets must take priority."

"I agree," said Rengath "Kalcuta must be made an example, so that others fear to rebel."

Tinlae laughed shrilly "It was it your apprentice that lead eight thousand soldiers to their deaths and lost two hundred and fifty fully grown Rancor's" she cackled "You have no right to speak on this, Fer'rer."

"You would do well to remember the rule of names in this meeting place" Lord Delhano warned her with deadly threat in his chilling tone "And all comments are to be directed to your Lord and Master. I will not warn you again."

"Forgive me my Lord," she said humbly, standing up and bowing quickly. None tested the ire of Lord Delhano Sorge.

The meeting progressed for some time afterwards. It was quickly agreed that crushing the rebellions should be dealt with first. Agreement was reached that after they had crushed all resistance to their dominion in their own worlds, they would take strategic outer rim worlds and begin the invasion of the Republic. They would try to contact the remnants of the Mandalorian clans. They also agreed to send more Empire troops and Sith to aid their forces on Kalcuta. After a short debate they agreed on the numbers to send to Arn; a planet that had recently begun a minor rebellion but looked set to explode into full-scale rebellion.

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**The Sedan Sith Academy – Marka's (old) Chambers**

Kaya was meditating in her room when she felt Marka's familiar presence enter her chamber. Since his promotion to interim master of the academy she had been left in his old chambers, outside the punishment cell. They were simple, but enough for her. She had a bedroom with a bed and a chair, and a little space to do her exercises, and a small bathroom. All in all not that bad for a prisoner, she just had to try and ignore that ghastly cell that had been her home for so long. She was locked in at all times, only Marka ever saw her, but considering who her other visitors would be it was probably better that way.

She broke her meditation. His visits were the best part of her day; she had little else to look forward to. He would generally come in the evening and they would share a meal together and chat long into the night, recently he had begun to share every meal with her. She had confided in him more already than anyone she had ever known, even her old master. He had confided in her too, more and more she was beginning to think that they now depended on each other for comfort and support. He had treated her fairly, even kindly. She had been unsure of him at first, but knew now that while his emotions ruled him; he had a kind heart. Marka's fathers' death had hurt him more than he would ever admit, especially since he had been forced to kill him. She had come to see through that that he was a real person, with real feelings, real pain. What was regrettable was his need for vengeance, but that was understandable. His heart was bleeding, but he was beginning to recover.

The smell of cooked meat filled the room. "That smells good," she said as she turned around "what is…" she gave a small squeak, her eyes went wide. 'It' was the body of a Sith woman, and she looked like a Cannok that Kaya had once seen that had been struck by lightning. "Did you do this?" she asked, dangerously softly.

"Yes, now I need you to take off your clothes." he said unconcerned.

Kaya took a deep breath "YOU SITH SCUM" she shouted at the top of her voice "DO YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY?" she kicked the dead woman's smoldering body "IS THIS HOW YOU GO ABOUT SEDUCING A GIRL? BRING HER A DEAD BODY AND TELL HER TO STRIP." her voice lowered a couple of notches "I was just beginning to think that you were better than the other Sith, but you're no different from the rest of them."

He had been doing something with the Force since she had started shouting. "Preparing to torture me?" she asked him angrily.

"Actually I am soundproofing the room," Marka told her "in stone buildings, sound carries."

"Why" she snarled "don't you want your little friends to know your 'pet Jedi' is getting out of control? I've seen how you look at me, you want me and you don't even have the decency to hide it. Why don't you just come over here and get it over with" she was trying to cover her growing fear by continuing on her angry tirade, but her legs were beginning to freeze up.

He looked genuinely hurt as he said, "It's nothing like that. If you look at this woman's face, you will realize that she bears at least a passing resemblance for you."

"So?"

"Nobody in the academy besides you and me know that she is dead. Now, what if she had never died and my Jedi prisoner was killed under my inquisition?" he said with a mischievous grin.

Kaya's eyes went wide as she clicked "You want me to pretend that I am this woman?!" she gasped, all traces of anger gone.

He nodded.

"But what if we're found out," she said, frightened "won't we both be executed?"

"Yes," he said softly, smiling bravely "but you will not last long here as a prisoner. We Sith are notoriously fond of killing, and I cannot defend you every moment of the day."

"Did you kill her specifically for this reason?" she said, trying not to let it sound like an accusation, but he shook his head.

"Her and two male companions sneaked up on me a few minutes ago." he replied easily.

"Were you alone?" Kaya asked, dreading the thought that he might nearly have been killed.

"Yes."

"Were they all full Sith?" she whispered, telling herself that she only cared for his safety because if he died she would soon follow.

"Yes."

Kaya shook her head with awe; this man had just killed three opponents. From what she knew of these Sith (what he had told her) she had deduced that their lowest ranks possessed superior fighting abilities to most Jedi knights. Jedi were warriors only as a last resort, these Sith lived to fight and killed for fun. She could not imagine the Jedi lasting against them. And this man had just killed THREE!

"I owe you an apology," she said, hanging her head in shame "I spoke in haste, you did not deserve my anger. You are risking your life, for my sake." Nobody had ever done that before for her "You acted in a manner…" she stopped talking when she realized what she was saying, but by the sudden flick in his beautiful eyes, he knew exactly what she had been about to say:_ you acted in a manner worthy of a Jedi._

Beautiful eyes, where did that come from she thought to herself, mildly shocked although, he does have a cute face too, and probably has a fine body under those navy-blue robes. Mentally she doused herself with cold water. She was a Jedi; she couldn't be having such thoughts, mind you it had never hurt Master Tyron or Aunt Belaya. Her eyes filled with tears as she remembered them, and gentle, foolish Garen.

"I'm sorry," he said.

She gave a start "about what?"

"About Garen."

Kaya looked at him in wonder, she hadn't even said anything. Suddenly it all made sense, the way she sensed his emotions on the day he had killed his father, as well as the way they could sometimes read each others mind and the countless other clues.

"We are bonded!" she said in fear and awe.

"Come again?" he said confused.

They talked for hours, about Force bonds and what it could mean for them. He knew a little, they weren't unheard of in Sith space, just very rare. They certainly weren't encouraged either. They talked about how they were going to pull the ruse of her being 'Lucia', without being caught. Marka coached her until she could quote him. He taught her basics of what every Sith should know, he taught her about this 'Lucia' person she was going to be impersonating, and made her up to look like the other woman. Most importantly he taught her how to act like a Sith.

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It was about midnight when Kaya slipped out of Marka's old residence in navy-blue scorched Sith robes; Marka had tried to explain to her how the attire denoted rank. All she had managed to grasp was that green was for initiates, red was apprentices, navy-blue was for full Sith and the Sith Masters apprentices. Black was reserved for the Sith Masters and Sith Lords, although Dark Masters wore black pants. Generally the darker colour their the Sith's robes were, the higher their rank. But there was also the design of the robes to take into consideration; she hadn't managed to grasp that part.

She filled her lungs with the sweet, cool night air; it felt good to be free. And yet, even now she was trapped in an identity not her own. Thinking back she realized that she had always felt trapped by the Jedi ideals of drab serenity and tranquility instead of joy and love. Perhaps everybody was stuck in cages, of their own making or otherwise.

Marka had spent the entire evening explaining to her things that for him were common knowledge, just so that she could get through the next day without being found out. It was going to be difficult to take up a different persona, and if she ever slipped, they would both pay the price. Her hair had straightened and dyed black, in the Sith fashion. That had been the one thing that had been noticeably different between her and Lucia. She had always loved her reddish brown curls, but her life was more important than her hair.

She could feel Marka through the bond, but very weakly. She supposed that she had been able to for a while, but the ability had grown so slowly that she had only noticed it now. He had probably been right when he had stated that the bond would almost certainly get stronger. The only way it could be severed now was if she were to get away from him, but that wasn't an option right now. She wasn't sure that she would, even if it was an option. Dimly she wondered when it had begun, had it been when she had healed his hand? But she sensed that it had existed even before then.

Kaya checked again the small hand-drawn map that he had given her, using it to navigate her way to her new quarters. She passed a group of initiates, they all stopped and bowed low for her; she gave a brief nod and continued on her way.

Her robes were badly singed, and on the inside they still had bits of burned skin attached to them, despite her and Marka's best efforts. She smiled when she remembered how embarrassed he had been, seeing her in her underwear and trying not to look, but obviously liking what he saw. The shame of her vicious accusations came back to her in full force; she would have to make it up to him.

Reaching down she felt Lucia's double-saber attached to her belt. Even though she had never trained with a double-bladed weapon before it still felt incredibly good to have a lightsaber again, she had felt positively naked without one. She had to resist the urge to ignite it just to see it again.

"_This weapon is your life" _Master Quatra had told her many years ago when she had crafted her very first lightsaber. Kaya knew it now, she felt alive again, more so than ever before.

Marka had ignited it in her old chambers, showing her its brilliant turquoise colour. "_The crystals that give it this of this colour are so rare that they are almost unique," he had told her "not to mention that this is one of the finest double-bladed lightsabers in the academy. It has contortis-woven casing, which makes it slightly heavier but more resilient to damage from other lightsabers. Its dual length function is excellent."_ he had shown her how to adjust the length of each blade. Kaya had been amazed to see the blades shoot out an extra half a meter. _"Its power output is also adjustable. Lucia was envied by many for her lightsaber."_ He had gone on to promise to teach her how to use it.

Kaya had felt a sense of awe holding the weapon for the first time, it was undoubtedly the finest she had ever seen; let alone owned! Impulsively she had hugged Marka tightly as she left his old chambers and kissed him on the cheek, causing him to blush red before shooing her away.

Kaya gave a little skip as she found her new quarters, something she hadn't done since she had been a little girl. Despite the complexity and danger of the situation she was now in, she felt something she hadn't felt since the shuttle had gone down on Sedan.

She felt hope.

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	4. Part 4, The Path of the Light

**Star Wars: The Dark Empire **

**Episode 1 – Exodus**

**Part 4 – The Path of the Light**

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The Sedan Sith Academy Docking Bay 

The ramp of the shuttle lowered, and nine men and five women marched down it, in step. They all had the military precision of Sith, and with their navy-blue robes and lightsabers on their belts the casual observer would be forgiven for thinking that they were regular Sith.

Pierce stood at the right hand of Marka. They were at the entrance to the launch pad ready to greet the new arrivals, at Marka's left stood the Equilum Laman O'del. A crowd had gathered; it was not everyday that fourteen new 'Sith' came to the academy. Except that they were not Sith. They were all secretly the Greys that had made it through Laman and Marka's strict requirements. They had been chosen because they were all good at training, good at turning others and had no suspicions pinned against them in any worlds. They were here to turn the entire academy away from the dark side of the Force.

Pierce had shared Marka's misapprehensions about the dark side since they had been initiates together in the academy. Marka had always been the more powerful and driven, and Pierce had happily followed his lead. Pierce was the only one who Marka had told Lucia's true identity to, he'd helped him to make the real Lucia's corpse look more like the young Jedi woman's (it had been taken away two days later). He was the only one besides Laman and Marka, and possibly the young Jedi; that knew the fourteen walking towards them were Greys. Due to his devotion to Marka and the fact that they were always seen together Pierce was sometimes known disparagingly as _Marka's little shadow_, a nickname that vexed him mainly because of the reference to his height. He was probably the closest thing Marka had to a friend, although they were not close. Marka was to cold to allow anybody besides his late father close to him.

"Is this wise? The Greys are despised in all areas of the empire," said Pierce quietly, so Marka alone could hear "once we do this we can never go back…is redemption truly worth the risk?"

"Yes," said Marka, his face a mask of stone.

"And what if Master Fer'rer returns?"

"Then I kill him." Marka stepped out to greet the Greys. Pierce stiffened with shock, Rengath Fer'rer was incredibly powerful in the Force; Marka wouldn't stand a chance.

Laman turned to him and said "Have faith, son" as he began to follow Marka. That irritated Pierce, he was NOT the old Equilum's son.

As Pierce and Laman followed in Marka's wake, Pierce couldn't help shaking his head slowly and saying, "I have a bad feeling about this."

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Kalcuta Surface – Theron City 

Jadan raised his blade just in time to block the laser blast, which rebounded and struck the rebel who had fired it in the chest. Several more rebels had now fixed their sights on him and had begun firing. Cursing loudly he dived for cover.

Jadan had been leading five hundred of the Empires elite soldiers, also known as Blackguards (because of their black durasteel armour) through the sewers of Theron to take the enemy from the rear while they were occupied fighting the attack on the walls. The raid had gone horribly sour though, the defenders had been waiting for them with the most impressive defensive grid Jadan had ever seen. Before he had managed to break through it he had had three hundred of his five hundred troops down as casualties. And now they were bogged down again and under heavy fire, with only a small foothold into the city. They had cost the enemy dearly though; Blackguards hadn't got their reputation for being twice as tough as Mandalorians for nothing.

From his covered position Jadan tried to assess what he had done wrong. They had struck silently and hard; they had allowed no warning. But there was no reason for the enemy to reinforce this backwater entrance so heavily when they couldn't have been expecting an attack there. Then his hackles start rise, there was only one possible explanation for two failed attacks of his in a row, not to mention a whole host of other attacks lead by other commanders that the enemy had somehow perfectly anticipated. They had a traitor in their midst's, and somebody with access to privileged information. Anger fueled Jadan's tired body, this was supposed to have been the attack that redeemed his standing among the Sith from his previous failure. Dark energy coursed through his body as he ran out of his covered position, blasting rebels with lightning and leaping at them with hungry lightsabers. He moved so quickly that few were able shoot anywhere near him, those that did he deflected with contemptuous ease. Some of the rebels tried to blast the general area with grenades, a bad idea. Jadan redirected them with the Force, to grenades changed direction and landed at the rebels' feet. There was a flurry of explosions, screams of the wounded and dying and the Blackguards surged forward.

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The 'Ebon Hawk', En Route To Tatooine 

The 'Ebon Hawk' shuddered as it was pulled out of hyperspace

Jaq Rand was checking the ships instruments when Jezebel ran up into the cockpit "Talk to me Jaq, what's happened?" she said quickly.

"Republic Hammerhead ships, two of them, they have us in their tractor beam. They must have been waiting for us in the hyperspace corridor," he said, adjusting a few of the bearings to reduce the ships trembling.

Visas, Hanharr and T3-M4 joined them in the cockpit. "They must have heard what happened on Manaan," said Visas after Jaq explained again what happened. Hanharr roared angrily and T3-M4 began clicking and whirling.

"I don't want to hear that you've been in this situation before, _little droid_," said Jezebel softly and angrily. The droid kept on whining and spinning.

Jaq could feel through his bond with Jezebel that she was feeling very tense, it was a bad time to annoy her, especially taking the current situation into account. The last time somebody had annoyed Jezebel, it had been Visas, and she'd been in kolto for nearly a week. Jezebel hadn't been nearly as angry then as she was now.

"I don't want to hear it. Final warning" the droid didn't stop.

Jaq closed his eyes. His bond with Jezebel was the strongest of all the crew, and he could sense that she was about to lash out violently.

Jezebel half turned and blasted T3-M4 backwards; it bounced against the corridor walls and struck the holo-generator, exploding against it. Visas looked at the Exile in shock, even Hanharr was taken aback. Jaq though wasn't surprised, subtly he used his connection with her to siphon out Jezebel's remaining anger so that she didn't attack anybody else.

"That thing was only ever good for the junk pile." said Jezebel, sounding slightly more cheerful "Now; are those ships in visible range?"

Jaq nodded soundlessly, pointing out the two ships that were now about the size of his index finger. Jezebel motioned slightly with her hands in their direction. At first nothing seemed to happen, then the first ship started to explode in a massive chain reaction, from the back forwards until finally its hammerhead was blasted into oblivion. As the head of the first ship disintegrated, a massive explosion happened in the midsection of the second ship, ripping it in half.

Jaq was shocked; Visas looked totally dumbstruck by the display of devastating power, no Jedi or Sith had ever been able to anything like that. But Jezebel the Exile was no ordinary Jedi or Sith, she had lost her connection to the force years ago and had now absorbed the power of thousands of sentients. She had augmented this with all the dark power of Malachor V, making her by far the most powerful force user ever. Such a display was the least of her abilities. If she ever put her mind to it she could probably destroy a planet.

Hanharr roared loudly in appreciation, then growled; informing her of the one escape pod that had blasted off the second ship, asking if he could destroy it with the ships guns. Jezebel smiled and shook her head.

"He must live to tell all of my power" she said, her mood dark but less aggressive than it had been minutes before "Jaq, get the ship into hyperspace again, then join me in my chambers. I have an itch that needs to be scratched. Hanharr, when he leaves you take over the piloting."

That explained her tension. Jaq gave a roguish grin and turned back to the controls; he was looking forward to it. Visas went to go and clean up the mess on the holo-generator, and Hanharr took his place at the co-pilots seat ready to take over.

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Jezebel Torin smiled as she waited in the dormitory for Jaq to join her. She now had the perfect crew, one so totally devoted that they wouldn't even think of betraying her. Jaq just needed a little maintenance work every few nights, Hanharr to be reminded who was stronger and Visas needed to feel pain. She gave them all what they needed, and they would gladly die for her.

Unnoticed throughout the entire proceedings, GO-TO hovered silently by the holo-generator.

------------------------------

Kalcuta Surface – Theron City 

Jadans forces surged forward, the enemy breaking before their fury. Jadan himself was away from the main battle; he stood in the market square facing two people in Grey robes. "You!" he exclaimed. Before him stood his aunt Oama and uncle Rackle, the ones who had raised him from childhood. "Why are you here?" he snarled.

"These people deserve freedom and liberty. Don't you see it 'Dan" Oama pleaded "please, we don't want to fight you"

"They deserve nothing," Jadan growled "The strong rule, the weak follow. That is the way of the Sith."

"We will defend those who cannot defend themselves," said Rackle as he and his wife ignited their lightsabers.

"Stand down!" Jadan told them angrily "You don't stand a chance against me."

"The dark side is not as powerful as you think!" his uncle retorted as they took combat stances.

"Greys," Jadan hawked and spat, his rage smothering what little mercy he had. "You know _nothing_ of the _power_ of the dark side of the Force."

He motioned with hand and his aunt and uncle rose into the air, their limbs flailing uselessly. Rackle tried to throw his lightsabers at him; they deactivated and floated to Jadan's feet.

"Never ever lose your weapon," said Jadan philosophically "throwing your lightsaber is the worst fighting technique ever invented. It is akin to cutting your own hand off."

"I don't believe that you are beyond redemption 'Dan," said Rackle, trying to stabilize himself in mid-air "Your offer to let us go is proof of this, we can …YEEAAARRRGGG"

Jadan had raised his hand and imitated crushing something between his fingers; snapping sounds came from his uncle as his bones broke, blood gushed out of his mouth and his breath was released in a final rattle.

"A true Sith holds no attachments," Jadan intoned as he let the body drop. His aunt moaned with horror.

She shrieked even louder when he turned on her.

------------------------------

The Sedan Sith Academy – Marka's Chambers 

"Concentrate, connect with the force" Marka told her "There is no room for doubt, indecision or fear; none for arrogance, weakness or pettiness. Clear your mind, and let your instincts guide you."

"I'm…trying" Kaya panted.

"Do," said Marka "or don't, there is no try."

Kaya hefted her training staff and took his next assault head on. It was a bad mistake; he was far fitter, stronger and faster than her. Although he struck her very lightly, in less than three minutes she had taken no less than a dozen blows. If he'd been anybody else with his level of skill, she probably would have taken a lot more. But with their bond she received a small warning before he even executed the attack, as well as the usual premonition.

Marka smiled at her in a friendly fashion as he stopped. "Take ten, then we'll continue," he said and walked out into his exercise room, where he kept his weights and other exercise equipment.

Kaya watched as he stripped off his top and started his weight routine. That man was incredible, he had been training all day harder than anybody, was giving her extra lessons during the evening and into the night when the only thing the other Sith wanted to do was sleep, and still he found energy for more exercises. What stamina! She watched as he moved onto the punching drone, his muscles dancing just below the surface of his skin as he struck sledgehammer blows on it. The drone swung back at him, but he absorbed, blocked and dodged its blows with ease. Kaya couldn't help admiring his muscles, she had been right; Marka had a highly attractive body. He was superbly muscled, but like a strong athlete. Even as she watched him train she felt shivers go down her spine, he was deadliness personified. He trained nearly all day, six of seven days, and twice recently had faced down overwhelming odds and won, although on the first occasion mostly due to the timely arrival of his late father. His name was spoken in awe in the academy, especially after the events of the last few weeks.

Three weeks ago the fourteen Greys had arrived, and the next day two of them had been killed by a gang of suspicious Sith. Marka had dealt swift and merciless justice; the culprits had been executed immediately. The day after that Marka had delivered an ultimatum to the academy: stand by him and swear allegiance to him or face him in a duel to the death. If the Sith agreed to this they would be betraying Master Fer'rer, who had held their allegiance before, and it would be a double betrayal for Jadan's old supporters. One of Jadan's Sith had challenged him. She heard later that the Sith had skills with a lightsaber to rival Tulak Hords'. That had not saved him however, although the duel had been good. After that display the entire academy, apprentices and residents, had given him their allegiance to Marka, albeit grudgingly in many quarters. In one brilliant (and very risky) move Marka had united the entire academy behind him.

The first thing that he Marka had done was impose some basic boundaries on the Sith of the academy, they weren't allowed to kill anyone on Sedan anymore except in self-defense. The reason he gave for this was that it ultimately weakened the Sith. Most of the Sith had been shocked at the time, Sith traditionally had life and death power over all other sentients, but had not noticed the difference recently as Marka's new training schedule had left them little enough time to sleep. The training had reached the level of insanity, and if it hadn't been for the seventh day of rest that Marka allowed them all they probably would have all burned out.

But Kaya didn't get a seventh day of rest, while on that day she didn't work as hard as the other days she still had to spend many hours with Marka training to use the double-bladed lightsaber. While Lucia hadn't been a great master of the weapon, if Kaya was seen to be incompetent with it the game would be up. Fortunately for Kaya, Marka had killed all of Lucia's closest friends when he had killed her. Kaya had kept the rest at arms length pretending grief initially, and had mostly avoided talking to people. Marka had set Pierce and Ramon to watch over her when he could not; fortunately she hadn't generated any suspicion yet.

While they had been as discreet as possible with the extra training sessions, inevitably it had been noticed that they were spending a lot of time together. Rumours had then started flying around, the main one being that 'Lucia' and Marka were lovers. They had both agreed to encourage this rumour, in the interests of preventing anybody from finding the truth. They would now give each other hugs when others were discreetly watching. Kaya had found it awkward at first, but quickly had come to enjoy the pretending. He certainly did too; she could feel it through their bond, sometimes when they hugged his hands would start to wander…

Unlike most Jedi Kaya did not believe in the doctrines of the order that stated that a Jedi should have no emotions, and after seeing Master Tyron and Belaya together she had few worries about love. Kaya was also honest enough with herself to admit that although she had some reservations about Marka she was falling passionately in love with him. Since he had released her and organized her new identity they had become much closer, both their bond and their relationship. She trusted him totally, he had earned it many times over, and she knew that he trusted her. Their bond meant that even when he wasn't around she felt his presence, his emotions. She was the one he confided in all his secret fears, doubts and pain. She was the only one he dropped his ice-mask for, with all others he was cold and calculating, but with her he was warm and kind. She knew how hurt he had been when he had been forced to kill his father, and the guilt he had felt over killing Garen. Marka was a good man in spite of what he had done, regardless of his power, despite his pain. Slowly his heart of ice was starting to thaw. She smiled to herself in a secret way as she made a decision: As soon as he made a move on her she would snare him, and she didn't care how many angry glances she got from jealous Sith women. None of them wanted him for anything more than the power he represented.

A gentle shake on her shoulder brought her back to the present.

"Time to continue" Marka told her gently. The punching drone lay on the floor a bit further away, broken. Kaya's mouth twitched; that was the third one in two weeks.

Kaya raised her training staff and held in the position he had taught her, and prepared to receive yet another battering. She was getting better though, yesterday she had managed to strike him once. Soon she would be good enough to use her beautiful lightsaber in battle; she could now see Marka's point about the superiority of the double-bladed weapon, she was probably good enough now to have beaten Master Tyron Keln. Her eyes moistened for a moment as she remembered his kind face, he had been like a father to her.

Marka swinging his staff at her head interrupted all further thoughts. She blocked it in her favourite style, Makashi, and counterattacked; nothing that he was using a style similar to Ataru, with elements of Soresu.

She was going to sleep well tonight.

------------------------------

The 'Jaeger', Space above Kalcuta 

"Wake up Sir" somebody was shaking him.

"Mmmm," murmured Lorn as he woke from a deep sleep "what time is it?"

"Sir, you must listen to me," came that persistent female voice again "you do know that five more planets have rebelled?"

"Yes, I was told before I went to bed," he said crossly, opening his eyes slightly "can you leave me to my beauty rest now?"

There were now seven planets in open rebellion, the situation had become so serious that all the Sith Masters had been ordered by the Dark Lord himself to abandon any other interests of theirs and concentrate on crushing the rebellion. Each had been assigned to a planet; and Rengath Fer'rer had been sent to subjugate Arn, a planet notable for its outstanding military tradition. As soon as he rejoined the fleet they would be leaving for Arn.

"Sir, Master Fer'rer was highly suspicious of the enemy's constant predictions of our attacks, and in the wake of Master Jadan's recent victory has ordered checks done on all officers and men with access to sensitive information. Including background checks."

Lorn was wide-awake now, "Background checks!" he gasped. The woman he recognized now as second lieutenant Hael, the communications officer.

She gulped and nodded "They are conducting them right now Sir, when they are finished the results will be sent directly to Master Fer'rer. He's on his way now, and nearly here. He intends to kill the traitors when he arrives."

Lorn's mind reeled, if they did a background check on him they would find out that he had been raised on Kalcuta, and that he had a wife and daughter there; more than enough reason to betray them, as he had done. While that information was only enough for a suspicion, Sith did not need definite proof to act. They had ways and means of extracting confessions from people.

"How do you know this lieutenant? Why are you telling me this?" he asked her, the unspoken meaning of the second question was 'how did she know that he was the traitor?'

"I _am_ the communications officer Sir, I intercepted the message. The same way I found out about you when I intercepted one of your messages to this 'Never' person. I've been covering you for a long time, Sir, even though you did not realize it. I am also a rebel sympathizer; and I will probably be found out as well if we aren't out of here when Master Fer'rer arrives." Lieutenant Hael told him.

Lorn jumped out of his bed and began to pull on his uniform "There is a O-wing scout in the hangar lieutenant" he said as he pulled on his pants, he had no time to get in the refresher. "We shouldn't be challenged on our way there, and there are few ships faster than O-wings in the empire." O-wings were small stealth ships, used mainly be the Sith for scouting. A black market had begun for them some years ago though, since they were virtually undetectable and incredibly fast they were very useful for smuggling.

As Lorn started putting on his overcoat he noticed that the lieutenant was looking at him, although as soon as she saw him look up she pretended to be looking elsewhere, a delicate blush creeping onto her face. Lorn smiled, he'd been married too many years to be bothered by a woman looking at his body. At the thought of his wife his smile faded, he did not know if her and his daughter were still alive. To take his mind off it, and cover the lieutenant's embarrassment he said:

"As we are now fugitives, I think we can dispense with the formalities of rank. So tell me Miss Hael, what is your first name?"

She smiled shyly "My name's Estrolia, but that's a mouthful so please call me Lia. And what is yours Sir…Mister Lorn?"

Lorn grimaced as he pulled on his boots, he'd never liked his first name "Florien, but please just call me Lorn." Some people had tried to shorten his name to Flor, but that wasn't much better.

"Of course…Florien." Lia laughed shrilly to cover her previous embarrassment; then her face grew serious "Who will hide us? Where will we go?"

Lorn had considered this some time before, the problem was that they had no hyperspace co-ordinates for planets outside Sith space, only the Dark Lord himself had those. As a fugitive he would be hunted wherever he went in Sith space. He had asked that same question to the rebel leader Never, and he answered her now in the exact same way he had been answered.

"To Marka Cabanic, at the Sith academy on Sedan."

------------------------------

Sith Master Rengath Fer'rer marched into the command deck of the _Jaeger_, four Sith retainers in navy-blue close behind.

"Bring commander Lorn here _immediately_," he snarled to bridge lieutenant Quan.

"Yes Master," said the lieutenant, and quickly patched through to the commanders room on his personal communicator.

Rengath turned his head slightly to see an O-wing power up outside the 'Jaeger' and blast into hyperspace. Why was he getting the feeling that something was wrong?

Lieutenant Quan was trying to get his attention "Master, the commander is not in his room."

"Find him!" Rengath said angrily. Why did all soldiers have to be such imbeciles? He couldn't shake the feeling though that something was terribly wrong.

After a few minutes of contacting all the various areas of the ship, the lieutenant came back to him apologetically. "Master, it seems that the commander is no longer on the ship."

"Then where is the traitor?" said Rengath furiously.

"Well, it seems that commander Lorn and second lieutenant Hael have just exited the ship on board an O-wing scout…"

Rengath Fer'rer's scream of frustration would be the last thing lieutenant Quan would ever hear.

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The Sedan Sith Academy 

Kaya hummed a tune to herself as she walked back to her apartment after her training session. It was the theme-tune from the musical "The Princess and the smuggler". The story, set in the Great Hyperspace War, was about a smuggler from Nar Shaddar who fell in love with a Princess of Onderon. The story was filled with singing arguments and heartfelt declarations of love, as well as dramatized fights with lasers, swords and shields and even lightsabers.

The Great Hyperspace War had been fought over a thousand years ago, and was supposed to have been the end of the Sith empire. Marka had taught her differently though. Unbeknownst to the Republic, the Sith empire had expanded into the unknown reaches of space, colonizing many previously uninhabited planets and conquering others. While the Republic had conquered many of the empires planets on the outer rim, the vast bulk of them remained unknown. The Sith had exterminated all traces of sentient alien life on those planets, with the sole exception of the miniature Arnon's from the planet of Arn. They were very popular slaves, good cleaners and hand-servants, with more intelligence than any serving droid.

After the disappearance of Naga Sadow a few powerful Sith tried to take over the mantle of Dark Lord for themselves. The civil war in the hidden Sith empire continued for nearly a century until a man who called himself 'The Messiah' had forced his way into power. Upon reaching the throne of the Dark Lord he had given himself the title of 'Darth Messiah'. He had set about making changes to the Sith, ensuring that there would never again be a civil war of that magnitude between them. He was nearly a thousand years old now; somehow he had found a way of prolonging his life indefinitely.

The changes that Darth Messiah had wrought had created an new age of peace and prosperity for the Empire, but it was always peace of the sword. There was no freedom or liberty, and the Sith had power of life and death over everybody else. People were dissatisfied with this system, and sometimes rebelled. Rebellions happened every few generations, this current one wasn't unusual, except that it had spread to far more planets than ever before. Yet despite these ongoing rebellions the Empire had gone from strength to strength, forever expanding its armies and its fleets. The only thing that they hadn't expanded on until recently was the number of Sith.

Since Darth Messiah had become the Sith Lord, each of the Sith Masters were not allowed to have more than fifty Sith retainers, and no more than two up and coming apprentices. He himself had never had more than a hundred retainers, and one apprentice. This had been to minimize the damage any internal struggles caused. That had all changed thirteen years ago, when the Mandalorians had been incited by the Sith to attack the Republic while it still struggled to recover from the recent war with Exar Kun. Now the Sith Masters were training as many Sith as they could in anticipation of the invasion of the Republic that they had been preparing for nine centuries. If they ever finished off the rebellion, Kaya did not see how the Republic could ever last against them. By his most conservative estimate Marka had reckoned on three and a half thousand Sith and apprentices outside of the five hundred at the Sedan academy.

A short woman with long blonde hair was waiting for her outside her apartment. Lost in her thoughts, Kaya nearly crashed into her.

"You are not Lucia, who are you?" said the short woman in navy-blue Sith robes. She would have been pretty if it hadn't been for the ravages of the dark side on her face. Her eyes weren't yellow yet though.

"Who are you?" said Kaya in shock, taking a few steps back. She had been found out!

"If you _were_ Lucia you would have known who I am…I am Banali." she stated proudly, then added, "What have you done with Lucia?"

Kaya thought fast, this woman knew she wasn't who she claimed to be. Better stick as close to the truth as possible "Lucia attacked Master Marka at the same time as her and her sisters lovers. She suffered their same fate."

Banali nodded "I sense the truth in your words, but why did you then take her identity, what is wrong with your own?"

Thinking quickly Kaya came up with a lie "I'm another off-world Sith who didn't want to be targeted by the rest of you."

"You lie, Jedi."

Kaya gasped, how had the other woman found out? She knew that powerful Force users were able to sense the truth behind another's words, but that hadn't included sensing the real truth. The other woman must have done a private investigation to find out what had happened to Lucia and had stumbled upon the truth. Yet Kaya sensed that she hadn't told anyone else yet, for her and Marka's sake it must remain that way.

"You'll take that information with you to the grave!" Kaya said boldly as she drew and ignited her double-blades. She had only ever had to kill twice before in her life, the first had been a thug attacking refugees, the second a bounty hunter out to kill her. Her heart was both heavy with regret for what she must now do, and constricted with fear. She was facing a full Sith, somebody with years of lightsaber training under her leather belt. Quickly Kaya went through a calming ritual and focused on all that Marka had taught her.

Banali drew and ignited her lightsaber; Kaya was relieved to see that it was only a single golden-yellow blade. She did not know if she would be able to last against a twin bladed Sith despite all of Marka's tutorage.

"Time to go to the Force," said the other woman, smiling cruelly; and stabbed at her midsection.

Kaya blocked, and flashed a series of recoil blows at her opponent. The hum and clash of lightsabers, her and her opponent's footwork, the Force, her entire focus was on the fight. Marka had taught her well, it was all Banali could do to defend herself against the constant attacks. In desperation the blonde Sith blasted at her with lightning, Kaya simply caught it with her double-saber. Then Banali tried to blast her backwards with the Force, Kaya used one of the simple techniques for resisting such an attack and stood firm. Terror in her eyes Banali attacked again, in Juyo form.

Kaya stood her ground, as Marka had taught her, catching all of the potentially deadly blows. She blocked her opponent's lightsaber, forcing it up above their heads. Then she kicked Banali in the face, causing her to stumble back, momentarily stunned. In that moment, Kaya destroyed her lightsaber and kicked her again with the Force and all her body-weight behind it, sending her flying. Banali crashed backwards into Kaya's apartment door, knocking it off its hinges.

As she advanced and held her lightsaber to the Sith woman's throat she became aware that they had attracted a small crowd. They were all excited now, and braying for blood. Suddenly Kaya felt disgusted with herself, she was preparing to kill a defenseless person. And yet if she allowed Banli to live what she knew could spell the end for both her and Marka, and perhaps even Pierce. For a moment she just stood there.

Sensing her indecision, Banali opened her eyes and wheezed quietly "_I'll take it with me to the grave_."

Kaya nodded and withdrew her lightsaber. "Since you have already opened the door, you may as well come in and talk to me," she said, hoping against hope that she could turn her away from the dark side. It was the only way she could ensure the other woman's silence. Further away the crowd was breaking up, disappointed for the lack of death.

Reflecting back years later, Kaya would know that this act of mercy sparked a friendship that would endure through the darkest times the galaxy would ever see.

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Tatooine – Anchorage settlement 

Jezebel Torin calmly ripped the arms and legs off the Hunter; and while he was still screaming splayed his ribcage out like two grotesque wings, exposing his vitals as his skin and clothes were shredded. She finally let him drop as she felt his life force leave him to feed her own. Privately she congratulated herself, it seemed she hadn't lost her touch, she could still think of new and interesting ways to kill people with the Force.

Anchorage was a ghost town now, inhabited only by the dead. If there was anybody left Hanharr would find them, his senses were incredibly acute. She had tortured them all before they had killed them, but none of them knew anything about Revan. Some Jawa's had known where to find the Star Map, and had agreed to take her there in exchange for their lives, as if! She had sent Visas and Jaq with them; according to Jaq on Manaan Visas' force sight had made finding the Star Map very easy. Hopefully it would be as useful here on Tatooine.

A low whirling sound came from behind, Jezebel turned to see GO-TO hovering towards her. He stopped just in front of her, and a few of the lights on his shell started to flash.

"Why aren't you guarding the 'Hawk like I told you to?" she snarled angrily, "This had better be good."

"After careful analysis of the relevant information and statistics I have come a conclusion: Your actions so far have had a ninety eight percent chance of causing severe damage to the Republic infrastructure. The destruction of Ahto city especially will create severe repercussions due to the loss of Kolto. Onderon now has a sixty two percent probability of seceding from the Republic. The Telos Restoration project will wane under the monopolistic Czeka Corporation; its chances of success are less than fourty percent. And Dantooine is in the hands of mercenaries. Added to this your mission now seems to be to rid the Republic of all its remaining stabilizing elements, namely the Jedi and Revan, the only ones that could possibly unite the Republic in its current crisis," said the droid in its monotonous voice.

"Your point?" said Jezebel dully, more than a little bored by the droids tiresome tirade.

"Based on the statistics I have arrived at, there is only one possible conclusion. You have been self-serving, you have not allied yourself to any cause nor created your own. You seem intent only on destruction and revenge, and in the process you are destroying what is left of the Republic. This is not economically sound. Therefore you must be terminated immediately, for the sake of the Republic's continued existence." The black spherical droids voice boomed coldly and metallically on the last word.

Jezebel smiled at the threat "And how are you going to do that, little droid, send bounty hunters after me? Remember, I know your little secret."

"I have already set a bounty on your head equivalent to my entire fortune." said the droid "The probabilities of my surviving this encounter are almost zero, so I will not be needing it." The droid floated higher as he said triumphantly "This is the largest bounty the galaxy has ever seen, six point four nine times higher than any before. You will be hounded until the end of your days."

Jezebel gripped her lightsabers hilt so hard her knuckles went white "Bounty hunters are as nothing," she said angrily "they would only be a distraction." enough of them and they could be dangerous, but that would have to be a group of at least twenty, armed to the teeth.

"But there is more" said the droid smugly as he sent off an intricate set of electronic instructions off world.

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Malachor V – Wreckage of an abandoned ship 

As the commands reached it, Bao-Dur's remote droid reactivated. Following its original programming it activated in sequence the power cores of the wrecked ships that would begin the chain reaction. Massive explosions ripped through the dark planet, and huge cracks appeared, breaking it into pieces. The entire rock quickly became a collection of large boulders, knocking against each other and breaking even smaller. Finally the mass shadow generator exploded, crushed between huge black rocks. The energy released shattered every particle of Malachor V to dust.

All over the galaxy, every Force sensitive person turned to face the direction of Malachor V as they felt the terrible wound in the Force diminish, and the chaos it had created lessen.

None felt this more than Jezebel the Exile.

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Tatooine – Anchorage settlement 

Jezebel gasped and fell to her hands and knees as power enough to destroy worlds drained away from her.

"As expected, the destruction of Malachor V has left you weakened and vulnerable," said GO-TO, four lasers appearing from different parts of his body. "The economy will stabilize!" he intoned as he started to fire.

The laser bolts simply deflected off an invisible wall before striking Jezebel. While she had just lost the substantial amount of power that she had drawn from the dark place, she herself was a wound in the Force. She retained all of her abilities, and had absorbed power from thousands she and those bonded to her had killed. She was still one of the most powerful Force users ever to have existed.

"YOU" she roared, and surging to her feet she blasted the droid backwards so hard with the Force that the back of him was crushed against the nearby wall, his needlelike appendages flying off in all directions. He fell to the ground and rolled awkwardly towards her, like a damaged ball. There was a loud click from the droids broken body as it stopped, Jezebel turned her head slightly to look at it. The world flashed blinding white.

------------------------------

_**BAAH-DOOOOMM**_The explosion shook the whole of Anchorage; the Sand people out of sight distance of the city heard the noise and rejoiced at the end of the outsiders. Desert Wraids nearby turned towards the source of the noise, their dim eyes just strong enough to make out the tall mushroom cloud. Visas and Jaq hurried back from the site of the Star Map at the feeling in their bond, forgetting in their haste to kill their Jawa guides. When the dust settled fully two blocks of the city were rubble, and most of the other buildings had taken damage. There was now a large crater in the centre of Anchorage and the sand and rocks nearby had been fused into glass. Of Jezebel the Exile there was no sign.

GO-TO hadn't been lying about the Proton detonator hidden inside his body.

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The Sedan Sith Academy - Courtyard 

It was nearly first light when Marka walked into the courtyard. He had woken up with a sudden feeling of greater peace and purity than he had ever known; he could even point to the direction that it had come from. For some reason he had then felt the urge to be outside in the cool night air. He stepped into the courtyard to find Kaya standing there with her eyes closed, facing the direction of the sudden purity. On impulse he wrapped his arms around her from behind; she didn't pull away.

"I hope I'm not interrupting your meditation," he whispered softly into her ear "I can leave."

"No, stay," she said, relaxing in his arms "your presence is soothing."

She fitted perfectly in his arms; Marka nuzzled his face against Kaya's hair. She leaned back against him as he swayed them both gently.

"You feel it too?" he asked quietly, looking up into the multicoloured sky.

"Yes, the Force is now more complete, more balanced," she murmured dreamily "there is less turmoil. It's as if …a wound were just healed."

"If there was a healing, then there is still far more to be done before the Force is truly healed" he said, his arms tensing slightly.

"It is a start," she said, her breath short as she turned her head towards his. The sun's first rays shone over the hills, illuminating her beautiful face.

As he held her, Marka realized that at that point there was no other place in the universe he would rather be than with her. Where Kaya was, was home. He gently placed his hand on her cheek and stared into her blue eyes.

"There is no word in any language to describe how much you mean to me," he blurted out, and immediately felt foolish.

Kaya smiled warmly and said, "I love you too."

Marka's breath came shallowly as he leaned over and brought his lips to bear with hers, she reached back and held the back of his head with one hand as he kissed her deeply, or was she kissing him? His senses reeled and his entire body tingled as he explored her soft mouth, she turned without breaking the kiss so that they were facing each other. His own pleasure was incredible, at the same time he sensed the pleasure she was feeling. Was it just him or was their bond strengthening, deepening? They stood there for what seemed like forever, intoxicated in each other's presence. Their hands were everywhere on each other, Marka barely even knew what was happening. He did not know where he was, how much time had elapsed. His body had taken control; his senses had taken over. She was so soft, she smelled so good, she tasted…

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Ramon Naj woke up feeling different, strange. He couldn't quite put a name to what he was feeling, but it was pleasant. What was so strange was that he could sense the exact direction this new feeling was coming from.

Ramon dressed quietly, being careful not to disturb the woman in his bed. She was the daughter of the local mechanic, a pretty but not particularly bright girl. Ramon did not trust any of the Sith women, by having a woman who was not Force-sensitive as a lover he could relieve his needs without needing to forever watch his back. He strapped on his leather belt, attached his double-bladed lightsaber, gathered up his cloak and strode out. The first rays of sunlight caught his ash-blond hair, making it shine like purest silk. His light eyes lit up like blue jewels, shielding them Ramon walked towards the courtyard

Ramon was the fourth most powerful Sith in the academy, a master of all lightsaber forms except Yoshi Ma. He had been exceptional in reaching the rank of Sith at only 16, the youngest ever at the academy. But he was not one of Rengath Fer'rer apprentices, and was far below Marka and Jadan's power. Ramon had fallen in with Marka rather than Jadan because Marka had treated him better. They were of an age, and close enough in skill that they were often sparring partners. The only problem with his allegiance to Marka was Marka's right hand man, Pierce. Ramon and Pierce had hated each other for seven years now, to the point trying to kill each other five years ago. Marka had stopped them, but their animosity had meant that since then Ramon hadn't been able to get close to Marka.

Ramon stepped into the courtyard, and his jaw dropped. There was Marka and Lucia in the middle of the courtyard, their lips glued together and totally oblivious to all else. But that couldn't be right; Marka had never let anybody get close to him, especially a woman. He hadn't ever had a girl in his life; Ramon had been beginning to wonder if he preferred boys. It was especially shocking because Marka was so cold to everybody that it was often joked that he was immune to the dark side, and here he was; intimately involved with Lucia.

Pierce and Laman were already there, looking in dismay at what was happening in front of them. Ramon felt the burn of anger at seeing his hated rival, and quickly went through a calming ritual outlawed by the Sith. Next to join them were Banali and the twelve remaining new Sith that Marka had installed as trainers. Soon the rest of the academy's residents were filing in, in groups. They all stopped and stared at Marka and Lucia as soon as they came in sight distance of them, the couple were still oblivious to all else. It occurred to Ramon that none of them had agreed to meet in the courtyard. They must have all felt that strange…calm feeling and felt the need to be outside. Interestingly, as Ramon surveyed the ever-swelling crowd, he noticed that the residents that were arriving first were the ones without yellow eyes. In fact, the very first to arrive had been the ones without any dark side ravages on their face. Did that mean that this was a light-sided feeling?

Ramon looked at Marka and Lucia again; they were still kissing, ignorant of their ever-swelling audience. This was getting embarrassing. "_ERHYM_" he cleared his throat loudly. Marka looked up, and gave a start at seeing about fifty other residents of the academy looking at him oddly. He frantically tried to disentangle himself, but as he struggled hastily out of Lucia's embrace he stumbled and nearly fell. Laman's eyebrows climbed as nearly high as his hairline. Pierce and Banali looked highly amused, and they weren't the only ones, muffled laughter was coming from the crowd. Marka flushed as red as a lightsaber as he regained his balance. Ramon grinned widely, this was the first time he had ever seen Marka blush _'there goes his reputation as emotionless' _he thought. He started laughing, hard. Lucia was giggling nervously as she blushed and hugged Marka close; who apprehensively hugged her back. The laughter swelled until everybody was clutching their sides with mirth, even Marka saw the funny side to it and joined in the laughter. As the laughter died down he bent over and kissed Lucia lingeringly, to cheers from the crowd.

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As Marka softly broke his kiss with her, he smiled with happiness. Kaya felt her heart melt with love for him; she stared up into his hard blue irises that now seemed almost liquid with emotion. She didn't care that everybody was watching; she could see eternity in his beautiful eyes.

And yet with all the Sith here and this new feeling of harmony this was an excellent opportunity…she whispered into Marka's ear, he nodded and broke away from her. Kaya instantly felt acute feeling of loss with his arms no longer around her, quickly she disciplined herself; there would be plenty of time in the future to kiss Marka, but opportunities like this one only came once in a lifetime. Marka calmly ordered the Sith into meditation positions, there were nearly a hundred there already, and Kaya began to instruct them. More arrived over time, until the entire academy's residents were there. In the beautiful early morning sunrise of the day of the destruction of Malachor V, Kaya Weston taught over five hundred Sith and thirteen Greys how to meditate on harmony and inner peace.

And so it was that on Sedan, the site of the best Sith academy in the empire, every Sith in the academy took their first tethering steps in the path of the light.

Stay tuned for 'Paradise shatters', Part 5 of Star Wars: The Dark Empire Episode 1 – Exodus 

_AN: Sorry if this is taking a while to be released, I'm a bit of a perfectionist, and I do have a life. The good news is that I'm far ahead with my writing, I am currently writing parts 6 and 7._

_I hope that you are enjoying reading this story as much as I am writing it. You're going to LOVE part 9 (the finale, the climax, the point everything before has been written towards). Guess who has an epic battle-to-end-all-battles?_


	5. Interlude, Young and in Love

**Star Wars: The Dark Empire **

**Episode 1 – Exodus**

**Interlude – Young and in Love**

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**The Sedan Sith Academy – Marka's Chambers**

Marka crushed Kaya against the wall, his lips seeking out hers hungrily. His arms slid over her body, he ran his fingers through her hair. She wrapped her arms around his thick neck and muscular shoulders and opened her mouth slightly to allow his tongue access. Marka lifted her up so that their eyes were level; she gripped her thighs around him. Marka's left hand moved to the base of her head, his right hand cupped her breast and strayed down to her tight bottom. Kaya gasped with pleasure as Marka started kissing her neck, moving up towards her ears. His hand glided under her loose robes.

Suddenly Kaya squirmed and pulled out of his embrace, "Slow…Slow down," she said breathlessly, regaining her footing.

Hot disappointment flooded Marka's body, "Come on," he said "we've known each other long enough!"

Kaya shook her head "We're not married."

Marka moved towards her, but she pushed his hands away. He searched the bond, expecting a certain level of excitement, and finding to his dismay a large amount of fear and anger smothering everything else.

"Where I come from, its unacceptable to sleep with anybody you are not married to." She told him, "And a woman with a child out of wedlock is cast out," she added the last part with a touch of bitterness.

Marka sighed, he understood. "Your mother?"

Kaya nodded angrily "She had me in her twentieth year. We lived as paupers, hand to mouth, constantly hungry. I was picked up by the Jedi order in my fifth year; they sensed my Force potential. A gift from my father." She spat.

"Your father?"

"A treasure hunter. He was already married, with a young daughter. He left my mother when she was pregnant."

"Did you ever get to know him?"

Kaya sighed, "He used to come and visit us every few years. He was good to us in his own way I suppose. He gave us money, even though he never had a lot. I can't really remember him much."

"And what happened to your mother?"

"The Jedi order discourages contact with the family. They say it leads to emotional turmoil."

'_Foolish rule, that would lead to more emotional turmoil than they would prevent,'_ Marka thought, although he didn't say anything.

"I was allowed one visit to my mother," Kaya continued "it was when I was twelve. She was…she was…" Kaya's blue eyes moistened.

"Slipping away?" Marka supplemented gently.

Kaya hiccupped back a sob, a single tear falling to the floor. "There was nothing the doctors could do, she was too far gone. She was only thirty three. It was at that time that I found out that I had a relative in the order, my aunt. She was visited my mother, her older sister." Tears started running freely down her face.

Marka hugged her tightly as she began to cry. She believed her aunt Belaya to be dead; he didn't have the heart to correct her. What would have happened to her would make death seem preferable. He whispered soothing nothings in her ear as she sobbed and clung onto him desperately. He could feel her misery and desolation seeping through the bond, bringing moisture to his eyes. Firmly he separated her emotions from his, it would not help if they both got teary-eyed and fed each other's gloom. As he held her he felt a strong twinge of regret that they were not at that very moment sharing a bed.

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**The Sedan Sith Academy – Cantina**

Marka and Kaya had had a bad fight. Pierce hadn't been able to work out all the details, but he suspected that their differences were too great to reconcile. They came from totally different backgrounds, and Marka had killed her best friend. The fact that she was refusing to sleep with him couldn't be a good sign. Pierce looked intently at him as he finished explaining his story. He downed his drink, burped, and spoke.

"Look man, this girls got way too many issues to be good for you." Marka gave no response and merely took a sip of his drink, so Pierce continued, "If she won't give it to you, you must look elsewhere. I always told you that you needed a regular good-time girl, but you would hear nothing of it. And you would never even think of any of the Sith women, even though plenty of them would have sold their lightsaber to be your lover. But you were like:" he deepened his voice in a surprisingly good impression of Marka's "_They only want me for the power that they represent, and they would probably try to kill me in my sleep. I would sooner take a squorpa to my bed."_ Marka had actually said that once, he reddened slightly, covering it with taking another sip. Pierce continued in a normal tone. "Have you ever actually had a woman?"

Marka choked on his drink, sending liquid spraying a meter in front of him. Some of the other patrons looked at them oddly for a moment, until they realized that it might be a bad idea to shoot glances at a Sith as powerful as Marka. A barmaid hurried up to clear up the mess.

"Would you like another drink?" she whined. Her face was pretty but her voice was hideous.

"No, thanks," said Marka, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "sorry about the mess."

"I'll have the same again," said Pierce.

The pretty barmaid curtsied quickly, flashing a smile at Marka before returning to the counter. Pierce wished for a moment that she had also smiled at him. Mentally he shrugged, he knew that while he was plain in the looks department, most women regarded Marka as very handsome. Marka was generally regarded as nearly as handsome as Ramon, Pierce's hated enemy. Ramon though, unlike Marka, used his looks to snare as many women as he possibly could, a sore point to Pierce as Ramon had stolen more than one of his lovers. But when a woman gave a man that sort of smile, the hard part of impressing them was already done. It was easy pickings from there.

"You see? You could have any woman you wanted." Pierce said; then whispered seriously, "You've never had a woman?"

Marka shook his head "After that time a few years ago when Jadan got one to pretend she was interested in me, and then tried to assassinate me, I stayed away from them."

Pierce laughed softly, he couldn't help himself "Well fortunately for you inexperience is easily curable. I'm sure if you spoke nicely to the barmaid she'd help you out."

"She has the voice of a Muol," Marka muttered.

"It doesn't involve talking!" Pierce said exasperatedly.

Marka shook his head "I…can't."

Pierce sighed; he finally realized what the whole problem. Marka had fallen in love with Kaya.

"She's a Jedi. You're the apprentice to a Sith Master…you're in the top twenty most powerful Sith in the empire. It could never possibly work." He said so quietly that even the people in the next table couldn't possibly hear.

"We are bonded," said Marka shortly, downing the last of his drink.

"Oh…Force" swore Pierce. There was no point now in trying to suggest another woman; he would never accept them. He could only ever be satisfied with Kaya, so Pierce asked him "Have you ever considered marrying her?"

For the second time in as many minutes Marka created a liquid fountain.

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**The Sedan Sith Academy – Lucia's (Kaya's) chambers**

Marka walked into Kaya's chambers. Kaya was already there; she was talking to Banali. As they saw him Kaya turned her face away from him, and Banali jumped to her feet.

"Excuse me," the blonde woman said, and left the room without having to be asked.

Marka sat down in Banali's vacated seat opposite Kaya; she was still determinedly looking away from him. She was blocking him from sensing her emotions through their bond, but Marka could see from the redness of her eyes that she had been crying. He took both of her small hands in his larger left hand, and put his right hand on her cheek, and gently aligned her face to his.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

Kaya didn't answer; she just hurled herself at him, clinging with such force that it drove all the air out of his lungs. For hours they just held each other, Kaya's slight sobbing slowly subsiding. The fight had been foolish and unnecessary, as most fights in relationships are. But it had brought up all of their anxieties and frustrations, which had fuelled it into a serious clash of wills. Marka held her until her breathing deepened, and he felt her body relax. After a day with so many ramped emotions, she had been totally worn out. Tenderly he picked her up, and tucked her into bed. As he pulled the blanket up to her neck, she wrapped her arms around his neck. Marka smiled and kissed her forehead lovingly. He stayed with her until she was asleep.

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**The Sedan Sith Academy – Marka's Chambers**

Kaya gave a small skip as she entered Marka's chambers early in the morning. She had woken up feeling refreshed and renewed, the problems of the previous day gone. Best of all, Marka had left her a present. She took a deep sniff of the flower that she had found on her table in the morning. It had a crisp, clear fragrance quite unlike any Republic flora that she had ever known. Its long stem held thin blade-like leaves, marked with darker green lines. The flower itself was delicate, with three rows of fragile petals. Kaya particularly liked their red and orange colouring.

As soon as she entered though, she was aware that all was not well. There was shouting coming from Marka's study; she recognized it as Pierce's voice. She could also feel Marka's suppressed anger through the bond. Quickened her pace, Kaya entered the room.

"…Why should HE get to lead them?" Pierce was shouting, "I've always been your most loyal."

"Because he is more powerful than you," Marka replied coldly. As Kaya entered the study he give a brief smile to her, "since I can't leave for obvious reasons; in my absence Ramon is the best choice."

Pierce was face to face with Marka, his face red with anger. Laman O'del was further away, leaning against the wall arms crossed, staying out of the discussion. This was clearly a gathering of Marka's inner circle, for Ramon Naj was also in the room, looking well groomed as always. He was without doubt the best looking man in the academy, his body well tanned and perfectly toned and hair glowing golden, as well as being the second most powerful at the academy in Jadan and Master Fer'rer's absence. He used all those attributes to their full potential; in the last month he'd gone through no less than eleven different lovers. Kaya despised the way he lived, but for some reason it made him something of a hero among the Sith men. She just hoped that Marka didn't get any ideas from him.

"Please," begged Pierce " people look down on me. I'm tired of living in your long shadow. I need to do something that can give me some self-respect."

"Do you realize what you are asking for?" Ramon retorted, "It could very well be a quick death."

"What's going on?" asked Kaya, confused.

Marka turned to her "We've decided to send some of our people to aid the rebellion. Only those that are close enough to the light side of the Force to resist the lure of the dark side once they are away from here. The problem is that we will be able to transport just ten at a time, because only the small O-wing craft could possibly escape Sith detection. I was busy telling Pierce that Ramon would be leading the first group…"

"Which is a bad idea…" Pierce interrupted, but Marka raised his hand and continued.

"And all the groups that came after that to reinforce them. Pierce here seems to want a chance to prove himself, and go in Ramon's place."

"I'm all for it," said Ramon quickly "let him take my place."

"Coward," Pierce spat.

"Hey, you are the one who wants to go," said Ramon irritably "it's in your best interests for me to pull out; so just shut your mouth. Anyway, I'm no mans fool. I don't fancy being the first to face the full might of the Sith empire with only nine at my back."

"Did you just call me a fool?" said Pierce, dangerously softly, his hands straying towards his lightsabers. Instantly Ramon was holding himself ready, his double-saber at hand.

"THAT'S ENOUGH," Marka roared, the empty glasses on a table in the corner of the room exploded, "you are my two best men, I can't have you killing each other. You will reconcile your differences TODAY."

Pierce and Ramon looked from him to the broken glass in shock.

"Shake hands," he ordered them.

They looked him and then at each other.

"Shake hands, now!" Marka repeated, the edge of a threat in his voice.

Gingerly the two young men extended their hands. They gripped hard, as if to break each other's wrist. When that didn't work, they let go extremely quickly. Their expressions said that would now have to de-contaminate themselves. The blind observer would have seen that their enmity was far from over.

"I think you should let Pierce go," said Kaya.

Ramon and Laman nodded, and Pierce smiled triumphantly. Marka was outvoted; he gave a sigh.

"Very well," he said, defeated, "Pierce, here are all the potentials that you could include in your group. Pick nine, we will be giving them special training, starting today." He handed him short list.

"Icadrin's on it!" said Pierce excitedly "And Amjas. Here's Sephron and …"

"You can take whoever you like," Marka assured him, "just don't take only your friends; otherwise you might not have any left in a few months."

Pierce grinned bleakly at that.

"What will we call this group?" Ramon mused aloud, when the others looked at him he added "I mean, they're not exactly Sith."

"Greys," said Laman quietly, speaking for the first time "They are Greys."

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**The Sedan Sith Academy – The Battlements**

Equilum Laman O'del stood on the walls of the academy that separated it from the town that had grown around it. The town also had walls, mainly to protect the residents from the wild animals lurking in the jungles. He turned his face towards the sun, catching the last of the fading light. Not for the first time he regretted that his pale skin was unable to build up anything resembling a tan. He wasn't an albino, but if he were any whiter he might as well have been. Most weren't nearly as pale as he was, except those cloistered for most of their lives, or who had fallen deeply into the dark side. It had the advantage though of looking like the mark of the dark side, saving him in the past from many difficult questions.

Kaya joined him on the walls. Her sleek black hair was bound in a long ponytail, apparently though her hair was naturally red-brown and curly. One of the many sacrifices she had made to be able to look more like the Sith Lucia that she was impersonating. "The team's doing well," she said.

Laman looked behind him into the academy where Pierce and his group of nine were training. Kaya and Laman had been teaching them earlier, but now Marka had taken over. He wasn't teaching them regular fighting skills; they already knew those. He was teaching them how to fight as a unit, and how to work with blaster-wielding allies. They were difficult skills, only Sith about to go to war were generally taught them. Marka knew them of course, being the Sith Masters apprentice. Laman also, having been trained as a front line Sith Elite in his youth under Lord Delhano's predecessor.

"Yes," he said, "In perhaps a month they will be ready."

"Marka's already picking out the next group," said Kaya "we will begin their training next week."

"Two groups at once!" Laman said, his eyebrows rose, "That will be difficult to manage."

"Ramon will help us."

Laman liked the young Ramon. He reminded Laman of himself at that age. He was bold, brash, arrogant yet intensely loyal; as well as a bit of a womanizer. Laman smiled, if he were twenty years younger he would be giving Ramon a run for his money with the ladies around the academy; and young Kaya here would be in big trouble. Interestingly, Ramon's power was almost exactly the same strength as Laman's, although it would probably mature with his age and Ramon would end up much more powerful. As it was, if the two of them were to duel Ramon would thrash him, he was far younger and stronger; and although Laman was notably good lightsaber duelist, Ramon was better.

"I wonder if he'll ever lead a group to help the rebellion," wondered Laman aloud.

"I highly doubt it," said Kaya "Ramon and Pierce hate each other, and Marka will not trust them to be on the same planet without his supervision." Until Pierce either returned to the academy or was killed, Ramon would have to stay on Sedan. Currently they were only planning on reinforcing the desert world of Bentu'va.

Kaya and Laman talked about current events, about how quickly various Sith were turning away from the dark side and the state of the rebellion as they watched the sun go down and the first signs of a sunset shone through. The noise of an engine caused them to turn around. Pierce and his group were gone; they must have finished their days training. Marka was there, in a small speeder not much bigger than him.

"Come on," he called, a grin on his face large enough to split it in half, "I want to show you something."

"Okay," Kaya laughed, running to him, her face flushed with excitement. She didn't even wave goodbye to Laman as she jumped behind Marka and pulled on her masked helmet and riding jacket.

Laman smiled, a twinkle in his eye as he watched them speed into the wilderness. Ah, to be young and in love again.

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**Sedan Surface – Lakeside**

Kaya stood in awe of the beauty her eyes were drinking in. The lake was picture perfect, serene and spectacular. The water, animals, plants and the tranquility punctuated only by the whisper of the wind through the foliage and a croaks from miniature gizka-like creatures created a prefect tapestry. As she reached to the Force, the stillness of the place and its timeless beauty touched her soul, magnified by the absolute balance in the Force, natures perfection. The sky had lit up in one of the most stunning sunsets she had ever seen on Sedan, and they were always spectacular.

"Marka, its…perfect," she breathed.

"My father used to take me here when I was a boy," he said, pointing to a tree with low hanging branches "I used to love to climb that golden-ash. Once I fell off it, from almost the top. I broke my arm, badly. My father had it mended within a day." he laughed, "The first thing I wanted to do afterwards was climb that tree again."

Kaya searched his face and their bond for signs of sadness or bitterness, but there was none. He had truly come to terms with his loss. "This place is very special to you," she said "and it now special to me too." She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around him, letting her hands dangle near the small of his back. She had to resist the urge to slide them lower. "Why did you bring me here?"

Marka blinked "Surely I do not need a reason?"

"You've been blocking me all day, mister, you're up to something!"

The red light surrounded Marka like a nimbus in Kaya's vision. Red: the colour of blood; the colour of passion; the colour of love. Was it just the light or was Marka flushing redder than she had ever seen him.

Marka dropped to his knees in front of her, Kaya stifled a gape as she realized what he was doing, her face going as red as his. "Kaya Weston," he began, took a deep breath, and continued slowly; clearly "would you consent to take me…"

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"… I do," said Kaya, somehow sounding both nervous and exultant at the same time.

"Then by all the powers that bare witness," said Laman, and tied a knot between the blue platted cord around Kaya's hand and the red one around Marka's. "I pronounce you husband and wife." Laman gripped onto the knot tightly, there were gasps from the crowd as the cord's colours mingled, creating purple. "For what the Force has joined, nothing can put asunder." He removed his hand, and the knot was gone. Marka looked at the cord, shocked, how had Laman done that? "For as this cord was two halves made whole, so too are you made one with each other."

Marka and Kaya exchanged nervous glance and Kaya giggled. When they finally received the traditional 'You may kiss the bride,' Kaya was so wound up that she leapt at him, wrapping her legs around him as she glued her lips to his. Marka smiled while kissing her, hearing the raucous comments and wolf whistling from the small crowd. They broke their kiss, and walked arm-in-arm from the place just underneath the golden-ash tree to join the throng, the purple chord draped around Kaya's neck. She looked radiant in shimmering-blue outfit that could not be described as either robes or a dress. Marka wore navy-blue robes, he'd had them custom made for the occasion. Guests immediately stepped up to congratulate them as the party began. Pierce, Marka's best man, was the first to shake his hand and wish them every happiness. Nearby Kaya was receiving a hug from Banali, her bridesmaid.

Marriages were very rare in Sith space among the Sith. No Sith before would ever admit to being married, it was a sign of attachments, and therefore considered a sign of weakness. That the Sith on Sedan could accept their (supposedly) temporary leader getting married showed how far they had come along the path of the light. Some didn't agree, but there were few enough of them that those who felt strongly enough to speak were a small minority; and easily dealt with. Interestingly, since Marka's proposal to Kaya a month ago a few Sith had come forward, openly flaunting their marriages. Others had proposed to their long time loves, and a whole host of Sith weddings was being planned for the near future. Most of them either wanted him or Laman to conduct them, and in his excellent spirits Marka had agreed to every one. All actions of Marka Cabanic were watched and copied by the other Sith of the academy, marriage had suddenly become both acceptable and a new fashion.

The party wore on, Marka saw Ramon enjoying himself. True to his form, with him was the prettiest woman at the wedding (besides the bride) and was busy unleashing his devastating charm on her. Pierce had found a quiet corner and was talking softly to a woman called Icadrin, he had confided with Marka recently that he had feelings for her, although Marka had suspected for nearly a year. They were both due to leave the next day for Bentu'va, to aid the rebellion there. They would have left two days before, but Marka had insisted that Piece stay for the wedding. The entire group of ten had been invited, they all showed nervousness on their face to varying degrees. He didn't blame them. Nearby the ex-Sith commander Lorn and the ex-lieutenant Lia were drinking cocktails and swapping stories. They would be piloting the O-wing that would be taking the ten Greys to Bentu'va in the morning. They had arrived on Sedan the day after that strange feeling of peace had first appeared, the morning after the night Kaya and Marka had been caught kissing in the courtyard. Interestingly, the feeling that had appeared then had not totally dissipated, although it was weaker now than it had been then.

The music began, and Marka quickly stepped into the dancing ring, where Kaya met him. They began to move, in step, minds linked; bodies in tandem with the music. The dance was elaborate, and terribly difficult to execute correctly as it required instant communication by both partners. Marka and Kaya had an advantage there, with their bond. Their intricate twirls and steps they performed left their audience in wonder. Soon the music dropped down a beat, and the other couples joined in, in a far less complex version of the dance. Marka smiled as he saw how happy his beloved Kaya was, he would be prepared to dance the entire night away if it made her happy.

The day wore on, as evening came dinner was served and speeches were made. Laman made a stirring speech about the beauty of commitment, earning much applause. Then the more informal party began, everybody going in their own direction and socializing.

Marka spotted Pierce alone at one table looking pale and drawn, Icadrin was nowhere to be seen. He sat down next to him.

"Having seconds thoughts, my friend?" he said after a moment of uncomfortable silence had passed.

Pierce started to talk, and they spoke in soft voices for what felt like hours. When Kaya started shooting glances at him that said that she thought they should quietly from the party, he turned to Pierce and said "I never told you how much your consistent support has meant to me over the years."

Pierce smiled unhappily "If we do not meet again, I will see you in the Force."

Marka laughed at Pierce's miserable expression and clapped his shoulder, causing him to smile ruefully "That's a promise!" Marka laughed, and got up off his seat. Before he took a step away though, Ramon approached them with his woman under his left arm.

"I just wanted to say," Ramon began, then turned to Marka, extending his hand "congratulations again." After he had shaken Marka's hand he turned back to Pierce and sighed "Look, I know we've had our differences in the past," Marka's mouth twitched with the effort to keep from smiling, that was possibly one of the biggest understatements he'd ever heard. " But I would like to put that behind us." He extended his hand towards Pierce.

Marka turned expectantly towards Pierce. The shorter man stood up and sighed, and gripped Ramon's hand firmly. This time, Marka sensed no sharp dislike. It was though the enmity between them was melting away. "Agreed," said Pierce curtly.

Ramon nodded "Good huntin'," he said before leading his new lover away.

Marka shook Pierce's hand one last time, then moved to join Kaya. They fled the party arm-in-arm, good-natured laughter following them to the speeder. They sped away into the deep black forest.

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**Sedan Surface – Deep Forest**

Kaya and Marka entered the hut that had been prepared for them near midnight. The hut was small, but homely, with a single large bed dominating its space, and a small bathroom. There was also breakfast prepared for the next day. They took off their warm riding jackets; Kaya carefully put the purple marriage chord aside. She intended to keep it forever.

Marka gave an exaggerated yawn, Kaya guessed it was deliberately to annoy her, and said "Well I guess we'd better get some sleep…" he broke off as she grabbed him.

"No sleeping tonight!" she said huskily as she pulled him into a passionate embrace.

Marka slammed her down against the bed, his lips seeking out hers hungrily. His hands slid over her willing body, he ran his fingers through her hair. She wrapped her arms around his thick neck and muscular shoulders and moaned softly. Passion fueled her, their hearts beat in unison; she gripped her thighs around him. Marka's left hand moved to the base of her head, holding it firmly as he kissed her even more deeply, if that was possible. She opened her mouth to allow his tongue access. His right hand cupped her breast and strayed down to her bottom, Kaya gasped with pleasure as he started kissing her neck, and then slowly moved lower. His hands glided under her loose outfit.

In the darkness of the moonlit cabin, Kaya and Marka were only aware of their hearts, beating in unison.

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	6. Part 5, Paradise Shatters

**Star Wars: The Dark Empire **

**Episode 1 – Exodus **

**Part 5 – Paradise shatters**

(Six months after part 4)

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**Arn surface**

Pierce swung his white blade, neatly decapitated his Sith opponent. Seeing a group of rebels under attack by Sith, he ran to help them, with the remained of his force backing him up. The fight was short and violent, leaving ten enemy Sith and three Greys dead. Pierce ran for the dubious shelter of a wrecked building, his remaining six Greys following him. Meanwhile the battle raged.

This engagement had been forced upon the Arn rebels; they had been drawn into battle in a time and place not of their choosing. Pierce and his remaining Greys had arrived with a force from Bentu'va to reinforce them, but the Empire's legion had been too great, their strategy too precise for them to make a telling difference. They were now surrounded and badly outnumbered. Pierce realized now why Marka had forbidden them from going to this Planet, they were facing Sith that had been at the academy with them, the risk was great that they would be recognized. But something had to be done, the Arn rebels were being slaughtered. Sith with lightsabers and Force abilities had arrived in numbers. They were wrecking havoc amongst the rebels, nearly immune to their blaster fire and predicting all modes of attack before they came. Only Pierce and his eighteen Greys had been able to take them on as equals, more than equals. Already they had killed about thirty Sith and over a hundred Empire legionnaires. But there were many more Sith and empire soldiers to fill the gaps, and there were only six Greys left now, besides himself.

As they reached the shelter Pierce caught his breath and took stock of their situation. Most of the Greys were applying treatment to their wounds or those of their comrades, some using the Force to aid them. They were all tired, most partially injured and terribly dispirited. Pierce spoke to them as they rested, brimming with pride.

"You are all hero's, all of you. It has been my honour and privilege to fight by your side." he paused; his voice was cracking with emotion "We have fought for what we believe in, against terrible odds. Yet despite our best efforts, we are going to lose; we are going to die. To tell you any otherwise would be a lie; and demean all you have done this day."

All of the Greys were focused on him now, men and women; young and old, he had their attention. Pierce continued to speak, praising individual acts of bravery. He had known them all for as long as he could remember, hated many for years. And yet in the last few months the bond that they had formed in combat had made them closer than family. Pierce realized that he loved them all, not just Icadrin. Ironic that he should only realize it now, when he had no time left. His voice cracked, he couldn't continue. Tears ran down his cheeks as he thought of those that had been alive only a few hours before, some only a few minutes before. He mourned for what he'd lost; he mourned for what he was about to lose.

"Don't grieve for them, they've gone to the Force" said Icadrin, his young wife. A lump caught in Pierce's throat, she was so in-tune with his emotions that she had sensed what he was thinking. They had only married two weeks before, and now they would have no more time together. She smiled bravely at him; "We will be with them soon." He didn't deserve her; she was too good for him.

Pierce smiled back through his tears. Drying his eyes he said "Lets make sure we give these Sith something to remember us by. Jadan himself is leading the Empire's forces; according to our intelligence he has a guard of eight Sith. Distract them and I will kill him myself."

Although Jadan had not distinguished himself on Kalcuta, since being relocated under Master Fer'rer to Arn he had become an unstoppable force. In six months of continuous fighting he had ground the rebels substantial armies on Arn to almost nothing. His name was spoken with fear and awe, even in the rebel camps. There were no cities or large towns standing on Arn anymore, he had destroyed them all. Millions were dead because of him, hundreds by his own hand. Even the harmless Arnon's hadn't escaped his wrath. The atrocities that he committed were fast reaching legend status; he made other Sith seem subdued. The worst of it was that he'd killed his aunt and uncle on Kalcuta, and they had been the people who had raised him, his parents in almost every sense of the word.

Pierce felt his blood rise just thinking of him. Killing him would be worth selling the last precious moments of life that he had left.

Amjas spoke, trying despite the strain in his voice to speak in his normal cheery way "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go kill this spawn of darkness!"

Pierce nodded with agreement, and led the six of them all out at a fast trot, re-igniting his brown and his white sabers. They would do their best to rid the galaxy of a terrible man, but even if they succeeded there were so many more to take his place. Despite all their courage and skill, no matter what the outcome of this engagement, all that they would receive for their efforts was swift death.

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**The Sedan Sith Academy**

Marka stood on the low balcony overlooking the courtyard. The wind swept back his dark hair back, and the late afternoon light lit up his blue eyes. They flicked down to the courtyard, where the trials of apprenticeship were taking place. Originally these trials had been about the initiate proving that they could use their emotions to strengthen them, as well as having a good level of competency with the Force and Lightsabers. Now to progress initiates had to prove that they could control their emotions.

Marka closed his eyes and reflected back on recent events:

Seven months since the fourteen Greys had arrived.

Six months since the rebel fugitives Lorn and Lia had sought asylum, which Marka had willing given them at the price of their O-wing craft and services.

Four months since the academy's residents had been officially numbered at five hundred. Marka had been recruiting heavily from all of Rengath Fer'rer's worlds, under the pretext of taking them to train as Sith. There were just over five hundred and thirty at the academy now, not counting the thirty who had left to aid the rebellion.

Three months since they had sent their first group of ten to aid the rebellion in the O-wing craft.

Two months and one month ago respectively since they had sent the next two groups of ten each.

Marka had chosen the students and residents that walked close enough to the light to avoid the corruption of the dark side once outside the academy to help the rebellion on Bentu'va. Pierce had led the first group, the size of the group determined by how many they could squeeze into the small O-wing, which was stealthy enough not to be detected by the Sith. Lorn had been kind enough to pilot the ship both to the planet of Arn and back, and had piloted the other two flights as well. From the reports Marka had received, they were doing well; giving hope to the defenders and grief to the oppressors. Unfortunately out of the thirty that had originally set out there were only nineteen left. There had been a terrible battle recently in which seven of them had been killed, a devastating blow. Fortunately Pierce was still alive, according to the most recent report-backs, apparently he had married Icadrin, another of the Sith. Marka was happy for them; they had loved each other for a very long time. Banali would be leaving the next day; she was scheduled to lead the next group of ten that left the academy, the first woman to be given command of a group. Of the twenty-eight original Greys that had gone to Kalcuta he had received no word, he supposed that they were all probably dead. He knew from reports that Jadan and his forces had killed twelve Greys during their time on Kalcuta.

Marka hoped to send two groups of ten this month, this time to re-enforce a different rebel planet, perhaps Levate? There were enough ex-Sith turned far enough towards the light for it to be a possibility. This was largely due to Kaya's abilities as a trainer; she had taken to training the students on morality and the light side of the Force with enthusiasm and flair. She was so good that she recently had even succeeded in turning the last true Sith in the academy, the ones they had dubbed the 'hardcore darksiders'. They still needed plenty of training on the light side, but it was an excellent start. There was now not a single pair of yellow eyes in the academy.

Relaxing his shoulders he moistening his lips and thought about his time with Kaya:

Eight months now since the shuttle carrying the woman he now loved had crashed in the Forest.

Six months since they had been caught kissing in the middle of the courtyard. He smiled at the memory.

Four months since he had proposed to her, by the edge of the lake during a beautiful sunset.

Three months since they had married.

Their marriage had been like something out of a forbidden love story. They had exchanged vows in a tranquil, secluded glad, with Laman performing the ceremony. Pierce had been Marka's best man; he had left the next day to aid the rebellion. Banali had been Kaya's bridesmaid. Marka had always thought of Banali as a hardened Sith, she had disabused his notion by crying the whole way through the ceremony. He couldn't help but grin as he remembered.

Marka and Kaya, the new bride and groom, had spent two weeks on honeymoon, traveling around the most tranquil and beautiful places of Sedan. Most of the planet was still untouched by human habitation; they had spent their days exploring on speeders and nights in each other's arms. Marka felt a thrill pleasure at the memory. No seductive pleasure of the dark side could even come close to that pure bliss and ecstasy that they had learned together on those bright, glorious days and dark, endless nights. Even now they still could not get enough of each other. She had changed his life like none before her; he could not even imagine what he would be like now if it were not for her.

Their bond was now so strong that they could sense each other's feelings and thoughts when they were in close proximity, they could even use it to communicate over distance. He gazed down at her fondly in the courtyard, sending her a glowing feeling of love. She looked up at him and smiled. Marka felt his heart swell, he knew now what his father had meant; she was the centre of his being. He had never been as happy in his entire life.

There was a loud thud as the door behind him burst open, Marka turned to see Unor rush into the room. "Kalcuta and Arn's rebel armies have been crushed," he reported breathlessly "They have surrendered unconditionally, and all the other rebel planets with them!"

In that moment, Marka's perfect paradise shattered. The rebellion had been totally defeated, it would only be a matter of time now before his actions would be discovered and the Sith came after the academy. What would they do? What could they do?

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**The "Executioner", Sith Fleet, Orin system**

Rengath Fer'rer, now officially recognized as the second of the Sith Masters, strode to where Jadan was waiting for him outside the Morgue.

"I _trust_ you are not wasting my time, my apprentice," he said with a warning note in his voice.

"Believe me Master, you will be very interested with what I have to show you" said Jadan confidently, and turned to tap a sequence to open the door.

They walked together into the freezing cold Morgue, their breath misting in front of them as they wrapped their cloaks tighter around themselves. Jadan led him to a rack where about twenty body bags hung. The rack was labeled _'Greys'_.

Jadan reached up and pulled the first one open just enough so that Rengath could see the face. It was a woman's face, her attractive features grey with death and her eyes blank and staring.

"Icadrin" Jadan said and moved onto the next one, pulling it open "Amjas" then "Sephron".

As Jadan moved down the line Rengath watched in growing horror as his apprentice revealed body after body of Sith that had been residents or students at the academy, HIS academy. Jadan stopped before revealing the last one.

"How could this have happened?" breathed Rengath softly. Those Sith and students had been loyal to the true teachings when he had left, what could possibly have happened that so many of them became Greys and joined the rebels side?

"Somebody led them away from the dark side," said Jadan forcefully.

"But who? And so many?" said Rengath, his normal surety gone.

In response, Jadan pulled open the last body bag. The face was half sheared away and Rengath did not recognize it immediately.

"I killed him myself in the final battle on Arn. Quite a good fight." Jadan mused aloud.

Then Rengath realized that it was Pierce. The whelp had been known as 'Marka's little shadow', and for good reason. There was no way he would have been aiding the Rebels without Marka's direction.

"I have a captive for you if that is not enough," said Jadan quietly.

Rengath nodded and allowed himself to be led away. Inside he was seething. Marka Cabanic, his trusted apprentice, had betrayed him. Worse still he had turned Rengath's Sith away from their sincere and true devotion to the dark side. Marka had betrayed them; Marka had betrayed HIM. How, why and how deeply the betrayal ran, Rengath did not know. But he was going to find out every last excruciating detail.

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**Sedan Surface – Beside the wrecked shuttle**

Marka sat down on the grass and leaned against his speeder. He had needed, just for a bit, to get away from the chaos of the academy. He had chosen this quiet, tranquil glade to relax in. The place where eight months ago he had killed the young Jedi, and watched his mortal enemy kill the Jedi Master. The bodies had slowly rotted away and been ravaged by animals, until Marka, Kaya and Laman had collected the bones two months ago and given them a quiet burial. Marka gazed out towards the two unmarked graves, and inclined his head with respect. This was place where he had first felt the pull of the light side of the Force and the place where he had captured the young woman who had later stolen his heart.

The news that the rebellion had been defeated had hit the former Sith academy like a bombshell. Everybody had their own ideas about what to do in the wake of this disaster. Some wanted to scatter to other planets and spark the seeds of rebellion from there, others wanted to attack Pandema and kill the Dark Lord, Kaya had suggested fleeing to the Republic.

But all of their plans involved space travel, and with only a few craft capable of hyperspace at their disposal there was no way that they could ferry over five hundred people to other planets. Master Fer'rer had taken his entire army and space fleet when the rebellion in Kalcuta had begun, as well as eighty of the hundred and ten full Sith that had been at the academy then. The one and only craft that Marka had at his disposal that could fly undetected was Lorn's O-wing scout, capable of carrying ten at a push. And even if they could get all the academy's residents off world, there was no way they would ever be able to incite rebellion amongst the Sith planets after the millions killed by the Sith during the rebellion. Nobody wanted to be a statistic. They would never even get close to the Dark Lord even if everyone in the academy were involved in a full-scale assault. That was assuming that they found a way to all get transported to Pandema, without getting destroyed first by the massive defenses in place there or by the one of the many parts of the Sith Fleet. And they didn't even have the hyperspace coordinates for the Republic, only the Darth Messiah himself had them, and even if they sought refuge there; would they be welcome?

They could not possibly fight back; they did not have the equipment or the manpower. The only plan that made any sense was for them all to go into hiding in the extensive jungles of Sedan. The Sith could never possibly find them all, and would probably give up after a few years when they attacked the Republic. It made Marka's heart break to even have to consider going into exile, but it was the only path available to him. What else could they do?

"May I join you?" said a man's voice as he jumped adroitly from the top of the shuttle.

Marka was instantly on his feet, shocked and alarmed. He had not even sensed the man approach, and he could sense anybody approach through the Force, no matter how weak the other persons Force signature was. While most Sith could only sense the approach of another sentient, Marka was powerful enough to even sense the approach of small animals and objects. But this stranger had no signature at all, impossible, even non-Force users had one.

Looking into the man's face Marka received another shock, he could focus on the man's face as hard as he wanted, but he could not make out anything. It was like looking at nothing. He could make out the rest of the strangers body though: he stood a shade taller than Marka, wore cream-white robes and had a well-muscled form. But his face was a black hole in Marka's sight.

"What are you?" said Marka in awe.

"A man" said the stranger "nothing more."

"Do you have a name?"

The stranger smiled, Marka couldn't see the smile but rather sensed it. "I have been know by many names, as many things," the man told him "You may call me 'Never', Marka Cabanic."

Marka shook his head; that was impossible. The most important figure in the failed rebellion wouldn't be on Sedan. He focused with the Force on disrupting whatever this man who called himself 'Never' was doing with the Force to render his face invisible to him, but it was like striking nothing. Angrily he lashed out at the man's body, but his Force attacks slid off him as though he were coated in oil. Marka's face burned with anger, this man had disrespected him by not giving him his true name. Not only that, but he possessed far greater control over the Force. Marka couldn't even see his face and 'Never' knew his name without being told. His damaged pride had to be appeased.

"You have an impressive command of the Force, 'Never', but can you duel?" Marka asked coldly. He drew his double-saber and ignited both of its white-purple ends, adjusting its power to the weakest level.

As an answer Never drew his own lightsaber and ignited both of its ends, also adjusting the power level. It was of very similar construction and colour to Marka's, but instead of being white with a light purple rim, it was white-cored with a light blue rim. Marka was surprised to see that his opponent held a double-bladed lightsaber. Few knew of the superiority of the weapon, and fewer still had the patience to learn it.

"You have my respect for your choice of weapon," said Never, echoing Marka's thoughts.

"As you have mine," said Marka, and attacked.

Mock-duels such as these were incredibly dangerous. Although both of their lightsabers had been lowered in power sufficiently that they would be unlikely to kill, they could still inflict terrible burns. Even at the Sith academy training staffs and sticks were preferred for mock dueling to powered down lightsabers. Those that preferred the latter generally received plenty of ugly scars, and changed their tune very quickly.

Forward and backwards they fought, switching between fighting styles at the speed of light. Marka had never fought so well in his life, but this was the best opponent he had ever faced. Marka had trained nearly every day almost since he could walk, and yet 'Never' was matching him blow for blow.

His 'Makashi' was countered instantly with strong 'Shien'. Marka was impressed with his opponents skill, most duelists would go straight to 'Djem So', which offered more weaknesses in exchange for greater aggression. His opponent had skill and caution as well as experience. He switched to acrobatic 'Ataru', expecting a 'Makashi' reponse only to have Never counter with an unorthidox form that could only be described as 'Niman' with strong traces of 'Dun möch'. He knocked Marka off balance with a well placed kick. Marka managed to fend him off with a mixture of 'Sokan' and 'Tràkata', changing his blades lengths, one at a time, elongating them them at opportune moments while fighting for a positional advantage. For a long minute they held their forms, neither gaining a substantial leverage. Marka was slowly manouvering his opponent into a position where he could cramp his movement. The fight reached a climax as Never threw caution to the wind and attacked with the incredible aggression of 'Juyo'. Marka leapt backwards, flipping and landing on his haunces, with one hand on the ground and the other holding his ignited double-saber. This was not a normal lightsaber duel, normally the combatants would only make a few shifts in form during the battle. This was more like a test, yes that was it, they were both testing each other. They looked at each other for a long moment.

Marka sensed a short nod from Never's indistinguishable face as he sprinted at him. This time Marka did not hold back anything, he unleashed the deadliest form known: Yoshi Ma, _the way of the whirlwind_, the form origionally created by Tulak Hords, and perfected by generations of elite Sith after. The form was so hard to learn that all eleven other forms had to be mastered first before training could even commence, and only those with great strength in the Force could augment their bodys sufficiently to use it. There were only nine in the entire Sith empire who had officially mastered it, only Darth Messiah or his apprentice Lord Delhano could give a Sith the rank of master of Yoshi Ma. Marka wasn't officially recognised as a master, but over the last few months he had spent much of his training time perfecting it, and was probably as good now as most masters. This was the greatest, most deadly lightsaber form ever invented, the form that had allowed Marka to survive even against three opponents until he had been saved by his father, and he hadn't been as good than as he was now. No other form could stand against it.

What surprised Marka was that Never also knew the form, they clashed and parred almost too fast for the eye to see. Marka felt his body beginning to tire, Yoshi Ma was notorious for burning incredible amounts of energy quickly, its only weakness was that it could not be maintained for very long. And yet, his opponents form seemed very improvised, like he knew the basics but had never been trained properly.

Elongating his blades Marka launched a series of blindingly fast extended and recoil blows, forcing his opponent back and chipping into his defenses. He pressed him, harder and harder, until he saw an opening. Without pause he took it.

Marka grunted as the breath was knocked out of his lungs on impact with the ground. His opponent's lightsaber was at his throat.

"What was that?" said Never coldly. In mock-duels combatants weren't supposed to use the Force to knock their opponents to the ground, they were only allowed to use it to augment their natural abilities. But far more importantly they were supposed to hold back from potentially dangerous strikes.

Marka started to laugh; he couldn't help himself. "I WON!" he cried out to the sky. Never paused, obviously astonished as he realized what Marka meant.

In the moment when Never had been forced to use the Force to knock Marka down, for a split-second his defenses that rendered his Force signature and face invisible had been weakened, which was what Marka had intended to achieve. He had struck out with the Force, shattering the fragile defenses. Marka had seen out of the corner of his eye a lightly tanned face with long, dark hair. But far more interesting had been the man's Force signature. The only one of its power that Marka had felt before was Lord Delhano's (none could feel Darth Messiah's signature, although popular rumour had his power as infinite).

"I am impressed, Marka," said Never as he helped him to his feet "I haven't ever faced that form before."

"Then how do you know it?" asked Marka quizzingly.

"I found an old holocrom ages ago," Never dismissed it with a wave of his hand "it has helped me to win many a important fight."

"Your knowledge is impressive considering that it is self-taught," said Marka slowly "but your technique is weak. If we have the chance I would like to train you, but with what is going on I don't think that will be possible."

"You have to flee from the wrath of the Sith," said Never knowingly.

For an instant Marka considered denying it, but the man already knew. "How did you know that?" he said at last, when he received no reply he groaned and continued, "Please don't say that our, my, betrayal of the Sith has become common knowledge." Marka sighed as he continued "It was no use anyway, the rebellion failed. The rebel planets are worse off now than they ever were before."

"Yes, millions have been killed already and hundreds of thousands more will be in the near future." said Never sadly and then addressed a question at Marka, "What do you plan to do now?"

"We have little choice, soon I will have to order the entire academy into hiding. The jungles of this planet are so dense that no matter how hard they look at least some of us will be able to evade them," said Marka sadly. He knew it was unwise to tell his plans to a stranger, but there was just something about this man. "We will be hunted like animals until the end of our days." It was inevitable, so he just had to accept it. "I just wish there were some way I could help the others," he added.

"You show compassion for people, and love for those you lead." said Never approvingly "It appears your men's confidence in you was well placed."

"You've met my men!' Marka nearly shouted, knowing instantly that Never was referring to the men that he had sent to aid the rebellion. All his doubts that he was talking to the real Never evaporated. "How are they?"

"They…fell," Never said sadly "In the last battle of the Arn rebellion."

"They were on Bentu'va, not Arn," corrected Marka "I forbade them from going to Arn, the chance that Jadan and the other Sith that were originally from this academy would recognize them was too great."

"They disobeyed you," Never said regretfully "When they heard what was happening on Arn nothing would stop them. I think the man you put in charge desperately wanted to prove himself."

"Pierce…did he survive?" said Marka hopefully, but Never didn't answer. Marka sighed, moisture coming to his eyes as he realized that he would never again see the young man whose support he had over the years come to take for granted. Without a word Never handed him a lightsaber that he recognized as Pierce's.

"You're the mysterious shadow-man who's been aiding the rebellion," Marka stated weakly with his shoulders slumped as he took the weapon.

Never nodded, Marka sensed the motion "Over five years now I have spent inciting rebellion in Sith space, less than half the planets intended to rebelled, and they are crushed in six months!" Never said angrily "The Empire was supposed to erode from within and never threaten the Republic."

"Forget the Republic" Marka growled, "I've lost men and women. My life, and that of my wife is in terrible danger. Millions have died already because of you, more will, and all you can worry about is the REPUBLIC!" he finished shouting.

Never gave Marka small comfort "Your men, they fought valiantly, against terrible odds, costing the enemy hundreds of casualties. But in the end it was a case of too little, too late."

"Now we are alone, with no way to escape. The Sith probably already know what we have done; will call us traitors, which we are, and destroy us all to a man" Marka moaned, his body wracking with sobs.

Never looked at him. "The Republic can help you," he said quietly.

"How?" Marka was trembling now, his body going cold with despair "From what I've heard they are close to collapsing, and why would they help us?"

"Because they need you." Never explained, "There were only eighty-three Jedi left after the destruction of Malachor Five, even if they took five apprentices each they could never last against four thousand Sith."

"But the Jedi will never accept us." Marka's emotions had burned out with intensity, now he just felt frightened, cold and alone. He didn't even bother to enquire what a 'Malachor Five' was.

"The Jedi will have no choice."

Marka took a few deep breaths to try and steady his fragile feelings and think rationally. "Even if what you say is true, will the Republic be able to arrive in time?"

Never must have smiled as he said, "I have connections there. In two weeks your entire academy will be safe."

Marka thought about it carefully "I will trust you, I have no other alternatives. But if you play me false I will hunt you to the ends of the universe!" If Never played him false he would most likely be dead, and Never was far more powerful than him, so the threat carried almost no weight. But Marka still felt better having said it.

"There are a few conditions."

"Name them," said Marka without hesitation.

"All your ex-Sith must join the Jedi order. You must force the Jedi to change their outdated ways, especially the ones that forbid emotion and particularly love. Make them remember that a true Jedi is to defend the Republic with all their strength. And …"

"Yes?"

"…teach me that form of yours!"

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**Stay tuned for 'Attack in the Night', Part 6 of Star Wars: The Dark Empire Episode 1 – Exodus**


	7. Part 6, Attack in the night

**Star Wars: The Dark Empire **

**Episode 1 – Exodus **

**Part 6 – Attack in the Night**

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**The hidden academy – Telos, Polar Regions **

Mical Aurain sat facing Brianna over the dinner table. Dirty cutlery and crockery adorned the thick durasteel table, which could easily have seated fifty. Only eleven sat at it though: Mical, Brianna and nine Force sensitive beings that they had found between them on the planet of Telos that had been willing to be trained as Jedi. Five of them were human; the others included a Twi'lek, a Chiss, a Nikto and (amazingly) a Wookiee. The new students ranged in age from twelve up to fourty, excluding the wookiee who was sixty-three.

Mical had come to the academy some six months before, fleeing from his bondage to Jezebel the Exile. He'd found the academy gutted, and littered with the decomposing bodies of Brianna's handmaiden sisters and Jedi Council Member Atris, and Brianna holding onto life by a thread. It had taken a month of careful nursing before she could even walk again. Since then she had progressed in leaps and bounds, she was now nearly fully recovered.

Brianna and Mical had worked out a good training routine between them, Brianna taught the students how to fight while Mical taught them how to use the Force. All were now competent enough to use a lightsaber without hurting themselves and use the Force for simple feats. They also taught each other separately; Mical had been able to quickly build martial competency, but Brianna had taken a while to overcome her natural barriers to the Force that her Euchani training had induced. Recently he had also been teaching the students how to make a lightsaber, as most of them were now in various stages of perfecting their design. Fortunately Atris, the late Jedi Master who had resided at the academy before, had left a great deal of lightsaber parts as well as some fully made sabers from which to base their designs. But that was only part of the treasures that they were now entitled to. There were training holocrons, for all aspects of Jedi training. They had been a great help, for Mical and Brianna couldn't train nine students at once, and most of them were at different levels. They also used them to refine and hone their own techniques. There were Sith holocrons too, but Mical had locked those that he couldn't destroy away, they were just too dangerous. The entire history of the Jedi order and the Republic was documented there in detail, Mical had been tempted to dig deeply into the Jedi histories, but Brianna had stopped him, citing that the training of new Jedi for the future was far more important than worrying about their past. So Mical had refined his excursions into the histories to his relaxation time.

With dinner over, the students began to clear up and drift towards the refresher and bed. They'd had a long day of intense training, and could expect to be woken up early the next day for another. Mical and Brianna stayed at their seats though, bidding each of the students a good night as they passed. Mical crossed the room and sat down next to Brianna. He opened his mouth to speak, then his nerve failed him and he closed it again. Brianna turned slightly to look at him, and Mical felt something leap inside him as he stared into her crystal-blue irises. Her hair was as white as the snow outside, and her skin flawless and smooth, except for the faint scars that were now the only evidence that she'd once been an inch away from death.

While Mical had been nursing her, he'd slowly come to the realization that he cared deeply about Brianna. During their near-naked sparring matches it had taken all of his resolve not to pull her close and…and…. He had to say something, but his nerve kept failing him. This was the third time already. Silently he resolved that he would admit his feeling now, no matter how much it took out of him. His skin was tingling all over, he felt lightheaded as he opened his mouth again to speak.

"Brianna," he began.

"Yes," she replied. She had never looked so beautiful. Mical struggled to put words to his feelings.

"There is something I have to tell you. Ever since…"

Suddenly the communications console in the center of the table began to whirr loudly, interrupting him. Mical's heart sank as Admiral Carth Onasi's image came into view.

"Evening, Mical. Nice to see you looking better, Brianna," said the Admiral.

"Good evening, Admiral," said Brianna crisply as Mical murmured a soft 'hello', the sinking feeling reaching the pit of his stomach. Brianna's jaw stiffened with what was probably annoyance.

Carth smiled slightly at their expressions, "Sorry if I'm interrupting a very important conversation, but I guarantee that this is more important."

Mical highly doubted it, but he turned his attention to the Admiral anyway.

Carth began outlining what he apparently had just found out. Mical listened with growing fear, his disappointment evaporating as quickly as rain on a lightsaber.

"So the true Sith do exist!" he said aghast.

Carth nodded "And they're planning to invade the Republic within the next few years." He began to outline the Rebellion on the Sith Planets and its failure.

"Couldn't we have helped the rebels?" asked Brianna.

"Even if we had known, our combined Forces would never have been able to match the Empire for numbers," Carth replied.

"We still would have stood a better chance than facing them on our own," said Mical. With the current state of most Republic infrastructure it would crumble against any serious threat. And by the way Carth was talking about these 'true Sith' and their Empire it would have taken a full strength Republic and Jedi order to face them. The Jedi were slowly reforming, but while they had grown in numbers somewhat in the last six months, there were still only one hundred and fourty of them. They could never possibly stand against four thousand Sith.

"But then we would have been drawn into a war we weren't ready for," said Carth "at least now we have some time to prepare."

"So do they," muttered Mical as Carth began to explain the plight of the academy that had chosen the light over darkness.

"How do you know all this?" said Brianna.

"We have to save these people," said Carth, neglecting to answer her question "with five-hundred new Jedi trained in the Sith arts we may still have a fighting chance."

"And what exactly does this have to do with us?" said Mical.

"I need as many Jedi as possible to go with the fleet, we don't know what we might find in the unknown reaches."

"Why don't you just speak to the Jedi council?"

"I did," said Carth curtly "it currently consists of three members, and none of them were prepared to let any Jedi go on the mission. They felt the risks were too great. Fortunately I've found some Jedi who where prepared to come with us. I was wondering if you two would as well."

"We have students to train," said Mical "and it would be best to trust in the wisdom of the council…"

"Count us in, Admiral," cut in Brianna. By the look in her eye there would be no dissuading her. Mical sighed; hopefully they would both survive this new adventure so he could get around to telling her how he really felt.

——————————

**The Sedan Sith Academy – Marka's chambers**

Marka raised the damp towel to his face, wiping off the remaining gel that hadn't been taken off by his razor blade. Afterwards he examined his face in the mirror, searching for any cuts that he might have inadvertently created. Today there wasn't even a minor one, a good indication to him that he had perfect control of body and mind. The dark blush of hair growing from under the skin was barely visible.

With all technology at his disposal Marka could easily have used a plasma-roller, which removed the hairs even under the skin. There were also creams that dissolved the hair, quickly and painlessly. But he preferred to shave. While Marka didn't have quite enough growth to merit a shave every day he did so anyway. He enjoyed the routine.

There was a nock at the door. "Enter!" Marka ordered, and took a sip of mouthwash. Nearby Kaya muttered something from the bed they shared, and pulled the pillow over her head. Marka smiled as he gargled, he must have kept her up later than he thought. The door opened and Ramon stepped through. He gave a start at seeing Marka undressed, but mastered it almost instantly.

Marka spat out the mouthwash, "You came, good," he said as he raised his head from the sink "there's something you and I need to discuss, in private."

Ramon nodded and moved to Marka's Study. After drying off the last drops of water from his morning refreshment off, Marka pulled on his robes and joined Ramon in the study, closing the door behind him.

"This is so important that you can't even share it with your wife?" said Ramon as soon as the door was closed.

Marka grinned "No, but she's tired, and I dare not speak to you about this outside my chambers." he gave a yawn, then continued "Ever since Pierce left you've been acting as my right-hand man. I've received confirmation that he was killed on Arn, along with his remaining eighteen men and women."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Ramon. Marka looked him carefully, deciding that Ramon was sincere he continued.

"I think its time to make your appointment permanent."

"You won't regret it," Ramon promised.

"There are problems though," said Marka "As my right-hand man you will have to make decisions on my behalf, based on what you know I would do in the situation. Additionally you have to serve as a role model to others. This means that some of your other…pursuits…will have to stop."

Ramon stiffened "Such as?"

"You are a womanizer," said Marka bluntly "and you seem to like to make lesser men, without your looks; strength or power feel like exactly that."

"I just put them in their place," said Ramon "and as for the woman, how can you fail to appreciate their beauty, their…"

"Stop justifying!" Marka snapped, "In the past six months you've impregnated ten different women, and that's just the tip of the iceberg with the amount of them you go through. How many was it last month Ramon? Thirteen, fourteen…"

"It was sixteen," said Ramon sheepish "But most of them I'd known before."

"How do you find enough hours in the day?" muttered Marka "No, don't answer that. Half the men in the academy hate you for how you treat them, the other half try to mimic you, with varying degrees of success. This can't go on. I need your word that you will change, from _to-day_."

A muscle twitched in Ramon's jaw. "And what if I don't?" he said, staring directly into Marka's eyes. Sapphire blue met pure ice. Ramon looked down first, "You have my word," he said quietly.

Marka nodded "Then you are my new right-hand man." He sat down, and motioned towards another seat "Sit, there is a lot we need to get through. I suppose we can start with the true identity of my wife."

——————————

**The 'Archon', dockyards of Coruscant**

"The 'Archon' is ready for loading and launch Captain," said the Docking bay officer, saluting her.

"Thank you lieutenant," said Captain Mission Ohtok, and the image on the holo-deck winked out.

Mission walked around the command deck, checking on her team of technicians that were busy making sure that everything was in perfect working order. She had been tasked with making sure that the brand new ship was ready for its ceremonial introduction into the fleet in two days time. It was to be a momentous occasion, with tens of billions on Coruscant joining in the celebrations as the ship flew overhead, rekindling their faith in the Republic. It would be displayed over the holo-net for all the worlds to see. She was here to make sure that the ship did not explode halfway through and ruin everything.

The 'Archon' was the first of its kind, a massive, state of the art Republic battleship. It was armed with high-powered laser cannons and long-range missiles, incredibly dense armour plating as well as the most powerful shields ever seen on a warship. But best of all was its primary weapon, a state-of-the-art multi-laser cannon with enough power to destroy a small moon in a single shot. The ship was not totally ready yet; even after it had been launched there would probably be a long series of problems for a while. As a prototype it needed constant maintenance. The primary weapon especially still needed a lot of work.

This 'Archon' class would be replacing the old Republic 'Hammerhead' class ships, which were far too small for their role as capital ships. During the Jedi Civil War the Republic had had very few warships, and had been reduced to converting transport and cargo ships into warships, one the many results had been the 'Hammerhead' class light cruisers. They had proved reasonably effective, but against Darth Revan and Malak's Leviathan class battleships they had only been able to take them on in numbers.

Static came from the holo-deck, and Mission turned to see the familiar figure of Carth appear. "Good to see you Admiral" she said brightly "we are running ahead of schedule, all the preparations are …"

"The ceremony's been postponed indefinitely," said Carth, cutting her off "an urgent relief force is being assembled, and this ship is needed immediately."

Missions blue jaw dropped "Admiral Onasi, this ship is not in operational condition, nothing has been tested outside the dock. It could fall apart in hyperspace," she told him with perhaps a shade too little respect, "and what about the huge fanfare to restore peoples confidence in the Republic?"

"Damn it Mission, I know all that." said Carth angrily, calling her by her name in frustration, "But the survival of the Republic could depend on the outcome of this rescue."

Mission's shoulders slumped in defeat, she could not argue with an Admiral, even if he was her friend.

"I have ordered supplies, weapons, ammunition and fuel to the ship; they should arrive within the hour," said Carth, then his expression softened, "Your husband has agreed to accompany us on this rescue-mission."

Mission gasped and looked up "Carth, its … its going to be dangerous, isn't it?" she stammered.

"That's Admiral Onasi to you Captain" Carth rebuked her, but his heart wasn't in it.

"It IS dangerous, _isn't it_," said Mission, her blue lekku turning purple as blood rushed to them. Her shoulders squared "HOW CAN YOU DO THIS TO ME" she shouted suddenly, causing her technicians to turn and look at her in alarm.

"Your husband is a Jedi, he has a duty to the Republic." said Carth in a strained voice, "And where we are going, we will be needing as many Jedi possible."

"And your son?"

"Technically he never joined the order, but yes, he is coming. His wife's coming too, she insisted."

"Where are you going?"

"Confidential." said Carth, closing the subject.

Mission thought fast "Permission to accompany you, Admiral Onasi, to make sure this ship does not fall apart!"

Carth looked at her for a moment, "What about your son?" he said.

"He can stay with the Nanny for a few weeks, he's used to it" Missions resolve hardened "After all those years of hiding and protecting him from bounty hunters, I'm not about to let you get Kaah killed on some foolish rescue-mission."

Carth smiled "Permission granted then, Captain, glad to have you on board. You'd better get ready quickly, we leave as soon as the ship is loaded."

——————————

**The Sith Fleet of Rengath Fer'rer, Arn system**

Two massive Sith battleships flew by, flanked by cruisers of every size and design, destroyers, frigates, gun-ships, corvettes and other warships so bizarre that they didn't fall into any class. Scores of fighters and bombers wove between the ships, and in the midsts of the fleet were dozens of massive unarmed transport ships.

"My apprentice has betrayed me" said Fer'rer's chilling voice over the intercom "He has corrupted MY academy with pathetic Greys teachings."

"All ships set a course for Sedan," said the Sith Admiral over another communication line, the ships began to power up their engines.

"Remember that Marka belongs to ME," the boosters of the ships started to glow white-hot "and I will have my vengeance." whispered Rengath Fer'rer as the entire fleet blasted into hyperspace. Within seconds they had disappeared into the infinite blackness.

——————————

**The Sedan Sith Academy**

Kaya kissed Marka lingeringly as he caught his breath. By the way he responded she knew that she could be expecting more before the night was out. His muscles felt very tense; they had for the last little while, ever since the bad news about the rebellion had reached them. Unwrapping her thighs from around him she slid onto his back and began to massage his knotted shoulders. Slowly he began to relax, his hard body softening. As she heard his breathing begin to deepen she stopped massaging and lay on his back, absorbing the heat from his body. She smiled as she felt his instant arousal at feeling her naked body on his. She traced indistinguishable patterns between his shoulder blades with her tongue, he groaned with desire. She had him in the perfect balance between relaxation and stimulation; he was ready to hear. Moving her mouth to his ear she nibbled it softly and whispered the good news.

——————————

It was just past midnight on Sedan, and in the new meditation glade Marka walked slowly between the trees, trying to reach peace with all the turmoil in his heart. He closed his eyes and drank in the sweet, crisp night air. The meditation glade had been Kaya's idea, it had been completed two months ago and had greatly aided in the turning of the darker Sith. Just walking in any Force sensitive could feel the presence of the light side of the Force. Yet even in his tired state, in one of the most tranquil places, Marka could find no rest, no peace. The news that Kaya had given him an hour before had turned his world upside-down.

"_Marka, I'm pregnant"_

It was terrible, it could hardly have happened at a worse possible time. His brain had been running on overdrive ever since he had heard those three words. He did not know if he wanted to be a father, he did not know if he was even ready to become a father. And how could they possibly look after a newborn if they were on the run from the Sith? Even if Never pulled through and they were evacuated to the Republic; how could the Jedi ever accept them with a child? And yet, Never's promise was still their only hope.

Marka had met up with Never every day for seven days in a row, until he had left two days ago. He had promised him relief within the next three days, but for some reason did not want to be around when the Republic arrived, his reasons were vague enough to make Marka suspicious. The two of them now shared a bond close to friendship, driven by their mutual respect for each other's skills. Marka trained Never in the twelfth form, Yoshi Ma, while Never taught Marka more about the Force (especially the light side, where Marka was notably lacking in instruction). In between their respective training they had planned for the future, for the evacuation of the academy's members and the survival of the Republic, which were now intricately linked together. Marka had put his trust in Never. He was their only chance for survival, so Marka didn't really have much of a choice. And there was just something about the conviction with which Never spoke.

Something that Marka really liked about Never was their mock-duels. They were so similar in skill that there was barely a shade of difference between them. Marka thought that he was slightly better, but that might just be arrogance. Certainly Never had a far superior command of the Force, what Marka had learned from him in just seven days had been nothing short of incredible.

A sudden premonition cut through his thoughts. Igniting his double-saber Marka deflected a high-powered laser blast, which instantly rebounded into the head of his would-be assassin. All around he sensed intruders, silently he cursed himself for being too preoccupied in his thoughts to notice before.

"WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!" he shouted, using the Force to amplify his voice, making it loud enough to wake up the deepest sleeper on the furthermost side of the academy. Furiously he leapt at the nearest attacker; even now they were butchering his guards. Why couldn't they have waited just a few days?

——————————

Lorn had been drifting off at his post when Marka's huge warning cry woke him sharply. Swiveling around with his blaster in hand, he shot down a dark-robed assailant an instant before he would have been killed. All around the academy was in chaos; the guards were trying to fight back but were hideously outnumbered. Lorn shot another enemy as he ran down the stairs, to be on the walls with the enemy inside the compound was suicide, they were totally exposed. He could see ex-Sith rushing out of their dormitories in various stages of undress, joining in with their lightsabers and fighting back strongly. Lorn dived to cover behind a speeder as a shot blasted just over his head. It had to be this night when the attack came, the one when a guard had been taken sick and Lorn had volunteered to take his place.

Lia dived in next to him behind the speeder; she looked as though she had only just woken up. She was armed with a blaster-rifle.

"What happened to the automatic defenses?" she shouted over the din.

"They must have disabled them," he shouted back, crouching behind the speeder and sending a flurry of shots at the enemy. Another fell to the floor and lay still.

For a few long moments they crouched, sniping at the enemy. Then Lia looked up and pointed.

"Look at that!" she cried pointing, and Lorn followed her arm. A strange group of metallic objects was flying towards them; they all had a peculiar tail of mist trailing behind them.

In the instant that it took Lorn to realize what he was looking at, the shells began crashing into various places of the compound and release greenish yellow smoke.

"Rancor-breath, cried Lorn, and turned to Lia "don't breath."

Rancor-breath was a commonly used nock-out gas; one whiff of it was enough to put anyone down for hours. It also had a lot of other unpleasant effects, including severe irritation to the skin, lips, throat and especially the eyes. Even now Lorn could feel his eyes begin to burn. He had used it on a number of occasions in the past, it was easy to produce and was highly efficient, any settlement or ship being boarded that got a good dose was very easy to subdue, with little loss of life on either sides. Lorn did not need to look to know that the attackers were protected, nobody was that stupid.

Quickly Lorn reached into the speeder and pulled out two helmets, he gave one to Lia. Speeder helmets on Sedan all had goggles and breath masks to protect the drivers from small insects and dust clouds. He gave silent blessing to the engineers who, instead of simply putting in a simple dust sieve, had attached a proper breath mask to the helmet; which was far more effective. They had probably only done though it to protect themselves from angry academy Sith who had got a little fine dust in their mouth. Sith were law unto only themselves, and did not take kindly to unnecessary discomforts.

"We have to get out of here," said Lia, muffled from behind the mask.

Lorn nodded, the gas was beginning to make his skin itch. With the academy being gassed, they wouldn't last for long. Even now he could see defenders fall by the score. The attackers had those among them who would know the academy (and the surrounding town) like the back of their hand, so hiding was not an option. Flight was the only chance they had. Lorn jumped into the speeder and powered up the engine. Lia jumped in behind him, still firing her rifle. Lorn released the clutch and they sped off in the direction of the main entrance, shots following them. Lia returned fire.

All around the defenders were drowning in the sea of green-yellow gas. Lorn saw they Marka's young wife Lucia and his confidant Ramon putting up a good fight with the support a group of ex-Sith; he recognized Laman, Venoak, Unor and Banali in the group. Somehow they were not breathing. They were hopelessly outnumbered though, with all the guard's dead and most of the other ex-Sith gassed, and were being shot down one at a time by dozens of stun-rifles.

They reached the main entrance to the town and the academy; it was the only one large enough for speeders. From directly in front of them came a huge, animalistic roar. Lorn pulled the speeder to a grinding halt. Coming out of the sea of green-yellow he saw something directly out of the worst of nightmares. Standing at well over three meters tall, nearly seven meters from tip to tail of armour, spines, claws, jaws, poison, irritability and instant death. Lorn had only ever seen holo-recordings of these creatures, they were known as Terantateks, but even the largest ever recorded in Sith space hadn't been nearly this big. It was blocking the exit; they would never possibly get past it.

Then Marka ran just in front of them towards the terror-beast, he also wasn't breathing. His voice spoke in Lorn's mind, causing him to turn his head in alarm _"I'll distract it, get out of here. The Republic was going to rescue us in three days time, come back then and tell them what has happened."_

Lorn gasped with surprise, he had never imagined that Marka could have been in contact with the Republic. He had so many questions that he would like to have asked, but there was no time. Marka baited the huge beast, drawing it far enough away from the entrance for Lorn and Lia to escape. It began chasing him with breathtaking speed. Lorn and Lia shot out of the now-clear entrance and into the nearby forest. Three Empire speeders outside the compound quickly powered up and took up the chase. As Lorn wove between the trees with Lia firing at their pursuers behind him, dodging enemy fire, he spared a though for brave young Marka, who had in all likelihood sacrificed himself so that they could escape. There was no way a single man could possibly prevail against a beast like that, even a Sith. For the first time since he had found out about his family's death Lorn felt something akin to emotion stir in his chest.

"May the Force be with you, Marka," he said softly, respect in his eyes and sorrow in his heart.

———————————————-

**Pandema, Chambers of the Dark Lord.**

Delhano Sorge, the apprentice to the Dark Lord of the Sith, bowed low before his Master as he entered the room.

"My Lord," he said slightly breathlessly "I have confirmed the report from our informant. The Republic has indeed sent a fleet to rescue those who rebelled on Sedan."

Darth Messiah sat a table, fiddling with wires and large pieces of durasteel, which he was manipulating with the Force like butter. He also had a few blocks of pure contortis, which he was molding in with the durasteel, creating alloy. His normal black robes and hood off, his back turned to Lord Delhano. This was all Delhano was allowed to see of his master, it was far more than most. Darth Messiah's hair was dark brown and short, and flecked at the sides with grey. His neck was thick and strong, and his fingers short and nimble, with palms larger than most. But there was nothing to suggest to Delhano that he wasn't looking at the back of a fifty year-old man. How his master managed to remain so young after over nine hundred years was beyond him.

"I wonder how they found out." Darth Messiah sneered, "They've come too late; all they'll find here is death. How do you suggest we deal with them, Lord Delhano?"

"We ambush them in the hyperspace corridors on their way back to the Republic, my Lord," said Delhano. There were only two major hyperspace routes near the Sedan system; they could easily blockade them with mines and ships. The Republic ships would certainly attempt to return once they found the academy a ruin.

"Do it."The dismissal in the Dark Lord's voice was obvious.

Delhano Sorge shot a glance at the contraption the Dark Lord was making as he left the room. It seemed to be a huge set of eight multi jointed spider-like limbs, modified to fit under somebody's torso or abdomen. Usable, provided that person had no legs.

——————————

**The 'Archon', En Route to Sedan**

Jedi Master Bastila stood at the command deck of the 'Archon' watching the familiar tunnel of hyperspace, trying to use it aid her meditation and help her control her unruly emotions. Their journey was nearly over. They were now in the ancient Sith Empire, and she was afraid. She was afraid that she would be captured again and turned to the dark side. She was afraid of dying. She was even more afraid of finding her Revan dead.

Carth had tried to conceal from her who he had received the information from about the rogue Sith academy, but Bastila had put two and two together. Until now nobody had even known of the Sith Empire hidden in the unknown reaches of space. There was only one person who Carth and the Republic would have responded so promptly for, and he had left her nearly five years ago.

Mission joined her silently, and together they stared into hyperspace. While Bastila and Mission hadn't got off to a very good start, over the years they had learned to put up with each other. They would probably never be friends, but at least now they did not work on each other's nerves. They had grown closer on this journey, both leaving behind a young son for the sake of their husband. The difference was that while Bastila was hoping to find hers, Mission was trying to keep hers alive. Bastila had taken Mission's husband Kaah under her wing and was training him further in the ways of the Force, unofficially becoming his master, which was part of the reason why he was on this mission. Kaah had been left without a Master since the death of council-member Lonna Vash.

Kaah was not the only young Jedi that Bastila had recently taken under her wing. On board this ship were also Dustil and Mira Onasi. Dustil was an ex-Sith apprentice who had been redeemed by Bastila's husband shortly before the fall of Darth Malak. Mira was a former bounty hunter who had spared Dustil's life after tracking him down for the bounty. At the time he had been the apprentice of Jedi council-member Zez-Kai Ell, and Mira had become good friends with both of them until Jezebel had killed the Jedi Master. Dustil had returned the favour by healing the terrible wounds inflected upon her by some mad wookiee; even now she had severe scarring. He had also begun training her in the ways of the Force shortly before marrying her. They were both weren't far short of the level of Jedi Knight, especially Dustil. Bastila had trained them ever since they had gone to Telos to meet Carth, shortly after the strange cleansing of the Force.

"How are the repairs going Mission?" Bastila asked, attempting light conversation.

"Alright, the main weapon is still not operational," replied the blue young Twi'lek "Hope we don't run into any trouble."

The ship had about five repair jobs a day, as well as needing constant maintenance just to keep it running. Hopefully it would be fully functional if they ever got into a battle, Bastila knew just how much time Mission had spent on it.

Bastila was silent for a moment "I hope this trip was worth it," she sighed.

Mission grinned naughtily "If it is, you'll have your work cut out for you. Instead of three apprentices you'll have five hundred!"

Bastila smiled "Hopefully I'll get some help from the rest of the order."

Mission frowned "I've just thought of something," she said "there are over five hundred of these rebellious Sith, but there are only one hundred and fourty in the Jedi order." That was after six months of recruiting, the original amount after Malachor V had been eighty-three. "Now that the Jedi are re-forming, surely there is a danger that if you allow so many outsiders in that key doctrines will change, and the order will become almost an ex-Sith order?"

Bastila nodded "The Jedi order will have to change if we are to survive Mission, if we had before we wouldn't be in the position we are now. We will have to accept back into our fold many Jedi that followed Darth Revan," her voice caught a little on her beloved's name, she cleared her throat and continued, "and Darth Malak. The lost Jedi will have to return to the fold as well, and we will have to take up many new apprentices. And yes, Mission, a lot will have to change. Jedi will no longer be able to hold self righteous attitudes or adopt wait and see approaches." The corners of her mouth twitched as she remembered her old master, Vrook, a man who had personified all of those attributes and more.

"So you think it is a good thing?" said Mission, surprised.

"Yes Mission, I do," said Bastila simply, closing the subject.

"What about emotions, and especially love? Will the Jedi change in their views there too?"

Mission obviously wasn't going to give up easily, but Bastila could hardly blame her. Mission and Kaah's marriage was blatantly against the Jedi code, as was Bastila and Revan's. As she began to speak, Bastila felt Kaah enter the command deck, followed by Dustil and Mira, another pair who might have problems if the rules weren't changed. They must have finished their meditation session. Mical and Brianna came in last, Bastila wasn't sure but she thought she could see something brewing between them as well.

"Too many of the Jedi are now married for the council to expel them all, or simply turn a blind eye to their actions." said Bastila "I believe that they will just have to accept it and move on. That is assuming there is a Jedi council, the only council members still alive that I know of are Masters Vandar, Yarin and Astin."

Vandar Tokare was a diminutive creature, but wise in the ways of the galaxy and the Force and held in great esteem by all who knew him. Astin Lamar was the official head of the Jedi Council and the late Council Member Vrook's brother; unfortunately they had very similar characters. Yarin Bleur was an Ithorian.

"I think change has been too long in coming," said Kaah as he hugged Mission from behind, causing her to sigh with pleasure as she leaned backwards on him. Bastila felt a pang of sadness and even a little jealousy, seeing what the two of them had reminded her sharply how long it had been since she had been with her husband.

Kaah was a powerful Twi'lek, tall even by human standards and very handsome by Twi'lek standards. His skin pigmentation was such a dark purple that it looked almost black, giving him a dangerous appearance. In actual fact he was unusually soft spoken, compassionate, cautious and thoughtful. He was highly aggressive in battle though with his deep-blue double-saber.

Dustil and Mira stood hand in hand on Bastila's other side and Mical and Brianna next to them. The six of them were the only Jedi in the entire fleet, and this was the largest fleet ever assembled by the Republic since the destruction of the Star Forge. Yet again Bastila had to work hard not to feel any resentment to the Jedi council, who had stopped more Jedi from coming. Much would depend on them if they ran into the Sith, and especially upon Bastila. She was the only Jedi who currently knew the Battle Meditation technique, with the death of Nomi Sunrider and her daughter Vima during the Jedi assassinations. As soon as she returned to the Republic she would be searching for Force-sensitives with the ability to learn it, in the wake of the discovery of the Sith empire and the imminent war this was especially important.

"Exiting hyperspace in three, two, one" said the pilot.

The 'Archon' shuddered violently as it left hyperspace, driving everybody standing to their knees except for the Jedi and Mission who was being supported by Kaah.

"The hyperdrive needs more work," Mission noted absently, and left the bridge.

The rest of the fleet was busy exiting hyperspace, materializing as if by magic beside them. As they flew past a large a large asteroid field, Bastila caught sight of a blue-green planet.

"What a beautiful world," said Mira.

Bastila nodded, "Sedan."

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**Stay tuned for 'Sith Poison', Part 7 of Star Wars: The Dark Empire Episode 1 – Exodus**


	8. Part 7, Sith Poison

Star Wars: The Dark Empire Episode 1 – Exodus Part 7 – Sith Poison 

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Ruins of the Sedan Sith Academy 

"Gone, what do you mean gone?" demanded Carth loudly, momentarily removing the breath-mask from in front of his face and gagging at the smell. Days in the hot sun on a stone surface had worked horrors on the many cadavers lying around, and lingering traces of the gas added to the stench. Very few of the bodies wore Sith robes or carried lightsabers though.

"There was an attack three days ago," explained Lorn patiently from behind his breath-mask. "The guards were killed and the automatic defenses de-activated. Somebody shouted a warning, but by then they were already inside the walls. They gassed most of the academy, those who didn't fall immediately received concentrated fire from many stun rifles." His skin was red and puffy, his eyes looked sore too. The pretty woman with him hadn't fared much better.

"Some Jedi know techniques for sustaining their body's with the Force, without air," said Bastila, who was standing beside Carth. "It makes sense that these Sith would know them as well."

"How do we know you're not one of _them?_" asked Carth suspiciously.

"Nobody knew that you were coming besides Master Marka, and maybe a few others. He only told me as I was fleeing, spoke in my mind…somehow," said Lorn, slightly mystified. "Anyways, if we were soldiers of the Empire we would have been properly prepared for the gas, and not be in the state you see us in now. And we certainly wouldn't be trapped on this largely uninhabited world with no possible way to get off it."

Carth nodded "Okay, you've made your point, but how did you get away?"

Lorn explained to Carth and Bastila what had happened that fateful night three days ago, how they'd been taken unawares by the surprise assault. How he and Lia had escaped the gassing and fled in the speeder, the terror beast at the entrance distracted by Marka. When they reached the forest three Empire speeders had pursued them. A high-speed chase had followed, with Lorn and Lia cheating death at every turn. Eventually Lia had shot two down, while the last had crashed. Lorn and Lia had then waited three days before returning to the academy, coming just in time to greet the Republic landing pods. At Carth's request Lorn went back to his description of the Terantatek blocking the main entrance.

Bastila shook her head. "The largest Terantatek ever recorded was two and a half meters tall, five meters long, and that was a freak," she said coolly from behind her mask, "You must have seen an immature Rancor, or you are exaggerating."

Lorn shook his head "Madame Jedi, I am a military man. I do not overstate, and I know what I saw."

Right on cue Mission's voice crackled over the intercom. "Ah guys, I think you'd better come and see this."

Marka's Cell 

Marka tossed and turned in his sleep, his wounds leaking blood slowly. He cried out in anger and anguish, and gripped onto the sides of his bed as he relived every moment of that fateful night.

_His entire world was filled with the thick, green-yellow gas. The darkness deepened it, making it solid, like murky liquid beyond a few meters. Flashes of light illuminated it in places, unseen people screamed as they died. Hisses of blaster fire whirrs of lightsabers and thuds of explosions filled the air. Marka had never been in combat quite like this. Except for the occasional scream everybody fought in silence, there were no orders being shouted, no battle roars. The gas burned his skin and his eyes, and would have had him unconscious if he hadn't known how to sustain himself with the Force._

_Marka would have been totally lost if he hadn't known the academy like the back of his hand. Everywhere he felt Force signatures, but he couldn't always tell if they were friend or foe, awake or unconscious. There were even masked Sith stalking the streets, making it impossible for Marka to rely on Force sensitivity to determine his enemies and allies, although the conscious non-sensitives were almost always enemies. The whole scenario was surreal and eerie. The worst part was that a massive Terantatek had latched onto his signature and was hunting him. He was playing a terrifying game of cat and mouse with a creature that could sense his presence with ease, while remaining invisible in the gas and undetectable through the Force._

_Marka moved as close to the wall as he could; minimizing the directions that his hunter could attack him from. An Empire Sith nearly ran into him, Marka dispatched him before he had a chance to recover. _

_A sudden premonition warned him, he dived away milliseconds before a huge, clawed hand smashed into the wall, showering him with gravel and plaster. The mammoth beast let out a roar of pain and frustration as it struck out again. Marka gave a huge leap to the top of the building to evade the second blow and escape it._

_On top of the building now, Marka was above the gas-sea. He could see now that the walls of the settlement were containing the gas, forming a basin. Immediately he spotted hundreds of soldiers armed with powerful stun rifles lined the walls, they were obviously there to prevent any of the academy's residents escaping. One particularly eagle eyed one saw him immediately and started firing. Marka defended, the shots dissipating on his double-saber rather than rebounding. Before more could start taking pot shots at him he leapt off the building, filling his lungs with blessed oxygen before falling back into the green-yellow abyss._

_Landing cat-like, he concentrated on his bond as he searched for Kaya. He had to find her. He ran into an area where the gas was not so thick, he could see up to twenty meters. There she was, at the edge of his vision, out cold. He would know if she were dead. She lay amongst a small group of stunned ex-Sith, Marka recognized ash-blonde Ramon lying face up, and was the blonde woman lying with her arm across him Banali? _

_His blood ran cold as he heard a loud 'thump, Thump, THUMP'. The terror beast was approaching, and it was not bothering to move silently. It was not stalking him; it must be going for the easier prey._

"_Kaya," he whispered horrified, sacrificing all the stale air in his body to say her name. He sprinted to stand between his fallen comrades, supporters, wife and the huge Terantatek. The beast let out a scream-roar of anger and hunger, and charged at him. Bred by ancient Sith, these creatures had been created with the sole purpose of killing Jedi. This time instead of fleeing, Marka de-activated his double-saber and charged back._

_Man and beast closed the distance between each other. The Terantatek gave a wild swing at him; Marka lunged forward, _towards_ the beast. The blow missed him by millimeters, tearing his robes. Rolling at the end of his dive, he came up beneath the huge creature. Immediately he activated a single beam of his double-blades. Energizing it to maximum power he ripped through the terror-beast's vulnerable belly, ducked between the creature's legs, and lay low as the animal's momentum carried it over him. The massive Terantateks insides sploshed on the stone floor as it stopped, it let out a high-pitched scream of pain and turned, falling down and swinging at him in death throes._

_Marka was rising when the first immense clawed hand came at him. He scrambled out of the way, but was off balance when the second blow came down at his head. Instinctively, he swung his blade and blocked the taloned hand at the wrist. The mammoth creature was far stronger than he was, and the pressure drove him to his knees. If the creature hadn't been at the edge of its arms' range and immobilized by its horrendous wound he would certainly already be dead. Marka gritted his teeth, the claws were coming closer and closer. Then the first clawed hand stabbed at him again. Focusing nearly all his Force ability into his strength he activated and elongated his second blade, catching the talons between the middle two fingers. The force of the blow nearly bowled him over. For eternal seconds they were locked; Marka's strength failing fast. The claws were so close he could see the waxy sheen of venom on them. They were getting closer and closer._

_Suddenly the claws of second hand relaxed and the pressure they were exerting was released. Marka looked up to see the last strands of the wrist being burned away, that blade was still running at maximum power! Quickly he tried to pull away without allowing the other talons to stab him. He succeeded in the last part, but the falling claws of the severed hand grazed his face as they fell. Marka shuddered as white-hot poison coursed through his veins. He couldn't scream; he had no breath in his lungs to scream with._

_Somehow he managed to pull himself out of range of the enormous Terantatek. His body was starting to die; the poison was doing its deadly work. For a moment he was tempted to let it kill him rather than allow himself to be taken captive by the Sith. He knew exactly what tender mercies awaited him with them. Then his gaze fell upon Kaya's unconscious form, he had to protect her! He looked at the academy residents lying beside her; he had a duty towards them as well. Summoning up all his remaining power he focused it on purging the poison from his system. Both Never and Kaya had taught him how to heal himself and others, but this was the first time that he had attempted something this difficult._

_Dimly he was aware that the Force-damned beast was still alive, and slowly dragging itself towards him on its chest. Its claws were scratching deep furrows into the polished sandstone floor. _That will be very expensive to get repaired_, he thought absurdly. Marka slowly backed away as he tried to flush out the poison from his body. He was getting weaker and weaker, his dying executioner closer and closer. His back struck a wall, and he slid down against it. The creature raised its remaining hand; Marka could see the burn marks between its clawed fingers. He looked at the Terantatek dully through eyes so sore they could barely see; he could no longer fight it; so all he could do was accept his fate._

_Then a miracle happened, before it could strike the killing blow, all of the Terantateks muscles relaxed. Its great head struck the floor with a mighty 'thud'; its deadly claws fell, just missing him. Marka was about to breathe a sigh of relief when he realized what a bad idea that would be. He resumed his task of purging the poison from his body._

_A few minutes later he was strong enough to stand, although he felt drained and weak. The noise and flashes had died down; Marka guessed that all resistance had been crushed. The first thing he realized as he stood up was that his double-saber had gone. Frantic, he searched for it._

_Before he'd had a chance to look properly, an Empire legionnaire came into his field of vision. They saw each other at the same time, the soldier tapped the emergency button on his comm.-link and swiveled his gun to fire. Marka motioned with hand, ripping off the soldier's mask. The trooper gasped, clawed at the air and fell unconscious. Marka pulled the mask onto his face, wincing with pain as it touched his wounds. Finally able to breathe, he started to recover some of his strength. He retrieved the fallen soldier's gun, disgusted to find that it was a Stun Rifle. It had an attached grenade launcher of course, but no grenades. _

_Another legionnaire ran into his vision, summoned by his comrade's emergency signal. He fired at Marka, who motioned with his hand, creating an invisible barrier that absorbed the shots. Cursing, the soldier drew his concussion baton and ran at him. Marka tried to shoot him down, but the armour the soldier was wearing was designed to resist stunners. As the legionnaire reached him, Marka turned the rifle around and swung it like a club. He disarmed the soldier with his first swing, and broke the rifle on his body with the second. Marka finished him off with a skull-crushing blow to the temple._

_A shot thudded into Marka's side, flooring him. As he struggled to rise, he saw yet another Empire soldier coming towards him, this one looked like a woman. Using the Force he gripped her neck, and with a quick twist snapped it like a twig. There was no room for chivalry in combat. More soldiers came at him, two more shots lashed into him. With the last of his strength he blasted at them with lightning, killing three. Two more shots sent him sprawling into the ground. The world faded from yellow-green to black._

Marka groaned as the dream ended and he sunk into deep healing sleep.

Ruins of the Sedan Sith Academy 

Kaah Ohtok stared at the monstrous creature. Even in death it was terrifying. He stayed a safe distance away from it, despite the fact it had been dead for days. How could anything be so big? How could something that big even be killed? In all honesty, Kaah knew that if he had found the creature alive, he would have run and hid rather than fought. It took teams of Jedi to kill such creatures, even at normal size. Carth, Bastila and the man and woman they had found in the academy came into view; they looked every bit as fearful of the monster as Kaah felt.

"Six-point-nine-one meters long. It would have stood about three-point-four-two meters tall, a new record," announced Padawan Mira, who was busy taking measurements. Kaah shook his head. Who worried about petty things like records at a time like this? Mission was plainly scared of the thing, and terribly heartbroken at seeing all the death around the ruined academy. While she tried to conceal it, she had always been a gentle soul. Kaah walked up to her and hugged her close.

She began to weep against his chest. "What are we going to do now Kaah? We've come all this way and the entire academy that we were going to evacuate has been captured." She was beginning to make the front of his robes wet. Her breath-mask rubbing against his chest was starting to hurt.

"The Admiral will think of something," said Kaah soothingly. Unlike Mission, he was not on first name terms with Admiral Carth Onasi yet.

"And if he doesn't?"

Kaah sighed "Then we'll have to go back to the Republic, and pray that we will be ready when the war comes." Mission's body began to shake with sobs. He hugged her tighter and began to stroke her lekku.

All of the soldiers and Jedi were standing at least ten meters away from the colossal Terantatek. But the former bounty hunter Mira, having finished her measurements, unclipped her lightsaber and moved to the creature's head.

"What are you doing?" cried Dustil.

Mira turned and flashed a brilliant smile for her young husband "Think what a great trophy it would make!" she declared gaily.

"Careful, all of its pointy bits are covered in poison," called the Admiral from further away.

Mira shook her head biting back a sharp retort, who did he think she was, and amateur? It was common knowledge to anybody who knew anything about Terantateks that even a small scratch from them was potentially fatal. Carefully Mira maneuvered herself to behind the vast monstrosity's head and ignited her orange lightsaber. She slowly began cutting through the creature's thick neck. It gave her lightsaber more resistance than the best durasteel. Dustil approached, it looked as though he was searching for something.

"What're you looking for, lover-boy?" she asked mischievously as she continued cutting.

Dustil rewarded her with a blush. She only ever called him that name in private, "How this thing was killed, and by who?" he said wonderingly.

Mira pointed with her free hand at the trail of entrails behind the Terantatek, and the deep gouges in the sandstone floor. "Obviously it was sliced open and it dragged itself quite a way before it died."

"And what weapon do you think they used?"

Mira shook her head; sometimes her husband wasn't the brightest spark. "It was almost certainly a lightsaber," she said. "They're about the only things that can cut through this creature's skin. He must have persuaded the creature to stay still for a very long time…" she was still cutting; the beast had incredibly tough skin "…or had an incredibly powerful lightsaber." She paused, "The person who killed it must have survived the fight, I don't see any bodies nearby."

"I don't know about that," said Dustil. He was motioning to a pool of dried blood near to the wall with no body nearby; droplets of blood were everywhere. Nearby, one of the Terantatek's hands lay, severed at the wrist. Dustil plucked something off one of the claws, "This looks like a piece of ear," he said, and flicked it away in disgust. "If the person survived the blow, they will be dead of the poison anyway."

At that point Mira cut through the last strands of the creature's neck. As the head fell away, Mira spied a double-bladed lightsaber that had previously been hidden beneath the colossal head. She was no authority on lightsaber construction, but even with her untrained eye she could tell that it was expertly made. She bent down and picked it up.

"I'd be prepared to wager that this admirable weapon belonged to the one who killed the creature," said Mira as she straightened, "and that he or she is still alive, otherwise the Sith would have left him where he fell; like all the others."

She ignited the double-blades. They hummed white-purple.

"I had hoped that my wife and daughter might survive, but they were killed in a bombing run two weeks into the war. I only found out after I had left the Sith and come here. And the information that I supplied to the rebels killed my son. His squadron was involved in that same bombing run. It was anticipated, because of me. They were all shot down, but not before they delivered their pay-load," Lorn told Admiral Onasi in a flat, emotionless voice.

There was a bitter irony somewhere there, all he had ever cared about, a life's worth of happiness shattered in a single minor engagement. An engagement so small that it wouldn't even be worth mention in military records. And all his work to save his family had cost him his son, and put him on the run. All his grief had been burned out months ago. Now he was a shell of a man, destroying the Sith his only desire and reason to live. Six months of hatred had set his soul with the pure resolve of revenge. Lorn finished explaining his story to Admiral Onasi, how he had ended up aiding the rebels, lost his entire family, been found out and forced to seek asylum at the academy. The Admiral nodded sympathetically at the end, sadness in his brown eyes.

"I know what its like to lose a wife" Onasi said sadly. "I served to help destroy the Sith after they took her away from me. At least I still have Dustil." He motioned fondly at the young Jedi who was busy dragging the Terantatek's head away with thick Durasteel ropes.

Lorn gave a sad smile and said softly "What I wouldn't give to have my son back." Lia put her arms around him, and rubbed his shoulder. Something stirred in the Republic Admiral's face.

"I don't mean to intrude Carth," said the Jedi Bastila, noticing Onasi's expression as well, "but we are in hostile territory. If there is nothing here for us, we'd better leave before the Sith return."

"True, we don't even know where these Sith who turned were taken," the Admiral replied, his attention diverted.

"There is only one place that Sith who rebel or stray from the teachings of the dark-side are taken to," said Lorn softly.

**O'Dus prison, Pandema system – Marka's Cell**

"_AWAKEN"_

Marka sat bolt upright in his bed. All the pain, bruises and cramps of his body hit him at once, he groaned and nearly fell over. Slowly he turned his head, seeing out of swollen and bleary eyes the distinct black shape of his old Master. Rengath Fer'rer's yellow eyes were narrowed in controlled rage. Gradually Marka took in his surroundings; he was in a small prison cell. It was about 3 by 4 meters, with only a toilet in the corner besides the hard bed he was lying on. The door was a thick slab; there were no windows, only two air vents too small to fit anything larger than his hand into.

_I'd be prepared to bet my lightsaber that this is a maximum security cell on Dus_ he thought, and then remembered that he didn't have his double-bladed lightsaber on him anymore. He felt at his neck, sure enough, there was a Force-inhibitor around it.

Dus was the prison moon of the Sith empire. A place of massive dark energies, it was a popular training ground for Sith, although no academy had ever lasted there. Sith legend had it that Darth Messiah himself had tainted the place with the blood of all his rivals when he had risen to power. The dark side slowly twisted the prisoners, driving them mad. Some took weeks, most took a few months, a very few even took years. But they all went mad in the end; the dark side was that strong there. In its nine hundred years as a prison, no one had ever successfully escaped from Dus, and all rescue attempts had been crushed by the substantial garrisons on the other moons and the resident fleet. Dus orbited Pandema, so there was always at least one fleet of ships patrolling the system, if not more. Not surprising, considering that Pandema was the throne world of the Dark Lord.

Rengath was clearly angry Marka hadn't acknowledged him; he threw him off his bed. Marka skidded along the floor, crashing hard against the wall.

"Why did you betray me, my apprentice" Rengath hissed softly "Speak!"

Marka's vision went red, rage poured through his veins, strengthening his battered body. Without a word he launched himself at his old Master, his fingers like claws, teeth bared. A solid blast of Force struck him in the stomach, sending him crashing into the ceiling. He was pinned for a moment, and then Rengath let him drop. Marka fell a short distance to the floor, doubled over in agony and cradling his stomach. He crawled painfully to the toilet and vomited noisily. With nothing in his stomach only green gunge came up.

"I am impressed with your ability though," Rengath continued, as though nothing had happened, "killing that Terantatek single handedly. Do you know how difficult it was to capture that thing? I've never even heard of one larger. Few could have duplicated that feat, very, very few."

Marka seethed with anger, gripping onto the toilet as hard as he could to prevent himself from launching at Rengath again. He had never known himself to be so emotional, but he clung to his anger to prevent the despair of his situation from crushing him. The side of his face was hot and throbbing.

"Your combat techniques are something that all Sith could aspire to," said Rengath "and your power has nearly doubled since I left you. You also have the loyalty and affection of my entire fallen academy."

Marka focused on the contents of the toilet. They were prettier then his old Master's white putty-like face.

"For these reasons I am prepared to take you back as my apprentice, with you at my side the rest will fall back quickly to the true path. You have proven yourself now as great as Jadan, together we three will be unstoppable. As Master and apprentices we will crush the Republic, and then wrestle control of the very Empire!"

"I'll never turn the dark side," snarled Marka balefully, breaking his silence.

Rengath cackled evilly "Look at yourself Marka, you already have." He motioned with his hand, and the air between him and Marka solidified into a liquid mirror.

Marka gasped as he stared at his reflection. Bruised and scrapes adorned every part of his battered body, his robes were dusty and torn. The wounds the Terantatek's claws had inflicted were horrendous; half his left ear had been ripped off. Two vertical lines on either side of his eye had shredded the left side of his face, they continued down his chest. They had sealed and were healing, but Marka could tell that they were deep enough to scar him badly for the rest of his life. The damage that the Terantatek and the battle had done to him though paled in comparison to what else he saw. His face was grey, veins stuck out under his skin. The dark side had ravaged every part of his body, giving him the look of a fresh cadaver. His eyes glowed yellow.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?" Marka screamed.

Rengath cackled louder as he allowed the Force mirror to fade. Reaching into his pitch-black robes he produced a tiny glass vile, half filled with a strange substance with the texture of syrup. It was changing colours, moving as though it were alive. "Do you know what this is?" he said.

Marka did not, but whatever it was he knew that he wouldn't like what he was about to hear. Rengath Fer'rer was unlikely at this point to be giving him some miracle-healing salve for his wounds. Its swirling colours were mesmerizing, blood red to bright yellow; sickly green to black as night.

"It is Sith poison, pure distilled dark side." Rengath told him. "A recipe created and perfected by the ancient Sith alchemists. It magnifies all emotions, except for those that make you weak. In ancient times, it was given to Sith apprentices who fell away from the true path, just as I have given it to you. But I gave you half the bottle; twenty times the required dosage. I cannot wait, my apprentice. Soon you will serve the dark side again, you have no choice."

"There is always a choice," said Marka. He focused on all that Never and Kaya had taught him about the light side of the Force, trying to calm the wildfire inside him. He could feel the poison run through his veins like magma, wrecking havoc amongst his emotions, distorting everything he felt.

Rengath looked at him for a moment, while Marka slowly gained control, then he lifted him high with the Force. Marka grunted as he crashed into the ceiling again. Rengath proceeded to fling him around the room from wall to wall, making him strike progressively harder, his face showing exactly how much pleasure hurting Marka gave him. The room was small, so the impact was lessened, but Marka was hurled onto solid steel. Finally Rengath let him drop, giving a contented sigh, like a thirsty man who had just drunk. Marka carefully pulled his bruised body up, trembling with rage.

"I can feel your _anger_" Rengath crooned "Give in to it! It gnaws at your heart, burning your soul."

There was a loud click, and the Force inhibitor around Marka's neck fell away. Marka stared at it, not daring to believe.

"Your passion gives you strength, use it, _strike me down_," whispered Rengath.

Marka wanted to; Force, he had never wanted to do anything so badly in his life. But he knew that while his lightsaber skills were exceptional, he was no match in Force ability for Rengath Fer'rer. If he struck out at him it would only hasten his fall. How he loathed the man, what he wouldn't give for his lightsaber now.

"I can feel your hatred, it feeds you; giving you power." said Rengath "With each passing moment you become again more and more…mine!"

Marka focused all his emotions into a single point, a complex Grey's technique that Laman had taught him. Normally they would condense to a flickering flame, but when he was finally able to feed all his emotions into the point; it burned like a bonfire. With an effort that would shake mountains, Marka snuffed the bonfire out. Pain; pure blinding white agony gripped every fiber of his being. His very bones were on fire; lava was casing his skull. Marka screamed, contorting on the floor. His muscles were scalding; his blood was boiling. Then it was over, he was weak, shaking and gasping for air, but he had control over his emotions. Defiantly, he grabbed the Force inhibitor and attached it around his neck again; it gave a click as it locked back into place.

Rengath stopped gloating and stared at him. "I don't know how you are doing it, my apprentice, but somehow you are resisting the effects of the poison." The Sith Master sounded impressed, "You will come around in the end," he said confidently. "There is no antidote for Sith poison, it cannot be purged with healing and does not dissipate with time. Still, that may take some time, with you resisting the way you are. So far all your Greys," Rengath snarled, "my old students and retainers, have been most resilient in my efforts to convert them back. But if they see you return, their resistance will crumble."

Marka looked his old Master in the eye, reciting in his mind the Jedi Code that Kaya had taught to him. He was still shivering with the memory of pain. _'There is no emotion; there is peace. There is no ignorance; there is knowledge. There is no passion; there is serenity. There is no chaos; there is harmony. There is no death; there is the Force.'_ That code would need some serious adjustments; it was highly philosophical and not very practical. No sane person could possibly live by a code like that. But at the moment he needed to take the first line to heart, and have no emotion. Any emotion he did have would be magnified to the point of being uncontrollable.

"You will be tutored in the ways of the dark-side by the greatest Masters of it," Rengath decided. "I didn't want to do this, except as a last resort. It might…damage…you." He cackled, motioning with his hand, and thirteen small panels in various places of the walls opened to expose a small Sith holocron in each. Marka visibly paled, Sith holocrons had been known to drive people mad within days, without the influence of an overdose of Sith poison. "Have fun, my apprentice," sneered Rengath, the heavy door opened. Laughing, he left the room.

As the door sealed shut, the lights went out; and the Sith holocrons began screaming, mocking, moaning. The only thing to be seen in the pitch-black room was the faint red light from the holocroms, and the glowing golden eyes of Marka Cabanic.

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**The 'Archon', Dakotan asteroid field, Sedan system**

The 'Archon' lay in wait, hidden by the electromagnetic rocks of the Asteroid field as it waited for an Empire ship to respond to the fake distress call. The operation was a very tricky one, and would require careful handling. The Republic ships needed to be able to access the hyperspace routes to get to the prison moon, O'Dus, if any rescue attempt was to be possible. And for that they needed to capture an Empire ship with its navigational logs intact.

Mission Ohtok was covered in grease, trying with her team to repair the temperamental tractor-beam generator. Force, how she hated being posted on prototype ships, there was never any end to the repairs. As she wiped the sweat off her brow with an oily cloth, she reminded herself that she had chosen to come on the mission, so she couldn't really complain. But what had originally been a simple pick-up mission from enemy territory had turned into an elaborate raid in the heart of Empire territory, the dangers were now so much greater, her responsibilities so much more. Her comm.-link started to beep.

"Mission here," she said as she activated it. "Is that you, Admiral?"

"_Roger,_" said Carth Onasi from the other end of the line. "_We've got a Sith cruiser coming into range. I need that tractor-beam ready five minutes ago._"

From the other end of the line Mission heard somebody exclaim in the background "That's the 'Jaeger', my old ship!" The comm.-link winked out, and Mission felt the ship shudder slightly as the engines fired up. After a few minutes, which Mission and her technicians used to seal everything up, the tractor-beam generator began to hum. Mission smiled; it was working perfectly. Then the generator coughed, and winked out. It started again, coughed twice, and winked out again. This time it didn't re-start.

Carth patched through to her "_What in the name of the chosen one is happening down there, the ship is about to escape!"_

Mission's insides froze. If the ship was allowed to escape the communication barrier they set up, it would surely contact the Empire's fleets and inform them as to their whereabouts. They would be forced to flee to the Republic abandoning the rescue effort. And it would all be her, Mission's, fault.

"Come on, you useless piece of junk," she shouted, kicking it hard. The only thing she received for her troubles was a throbbing foot. But as Mission danced on her undamaged leg, the tractor-beam generator sprung to life again.

"I did it!" she cried, sitting down on the floor to stop her foot from aching. "I am a genius."

**O'Dus prison, Pandema system – Main holding Cells**

Banali returned from her torture session quivering. She was led back into her private cell, with not even enough space to lie down. Kaya's heart went out to her as she watched her sit down in her cell and weep.

All of the Sedan ex-Sith besides Marka were being kept in vast open halls inside the prison complex, they each contained hundreds of shielded cells. Torturers were constantly moving among them, randomly choosing victims. The vibe had been good at first among the Sedan ex-Sith, they had joked around and half-hearted teased the guards, offering encouragement for each other and even pleaded with the torturers to be chosen next. Four days with no water or food and constant torture had dried up their spirits. They all knew how to last without sleep and water for greater periods than normal, but even still under such conditions they could not last much longer. They were getting weaker by the day, and there was no end in sight. For the first time some of them were in danger of slipping back into darkness, just to prevent the nightmare from continuing.

But Kaya knew that as bad as they had it here, Marka had it far worse. He had been blocking her almost since he'd woken up, but from what she felt from their bond that he'd unwittingly let through before he'd blocked her out she knew what was being done to him made their suffering seem like pleasure.

"Be strong, my heart," she prayed.

All their hopes now rested in a message a man they knew nothing about might have sent.

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**The 'Archon', Dakotan asteroid field, Sedan system**

"Here are all the co-ordinates for the prison-moon, Admiral," said Lorn, handing a datapad to Onasi.

"How did you get it so quickly?" asked Carth Onasi suspiciously. "Surely there are security systems on the ship to prevent that from happening."

Lorn sighed "Admiral Onasi," he said, "I was an officer on it for fifteen years. I worked my way up from sub-lieutenant up to commander on that ship. I probably know the ins and outs of it better than anyone else." The constant suspicion of the man was beginning to annoy Lorn.

The Admiral didn't bother to apologize; he merely glanced at the datapad before handing it to one of his pilots. He started issuing orders regarding to the distribution of the data and the preparation of the fleet. He blatantly ignored Lorn for the next half hour, and when he noticed that Lorn was still with him all he said was, "You're still here."

Lorn's anger flared, but with a lifetime of controlling his emotions among Sith he mastered it quickly. "Sir, I must request that I be allowed to take command of the 'Jaeger'."

"Why should I allow you to do that?"

Lorn had to tighten his fists to prevent any other sign of his fury from showing. "Admiral," he said stiffly, perhaps too formally, "We will be going into the most heavily fortified system in Sith space, we will need every ship. If you plan to use the 'Jaeger', you will have to install a crew who are unused to it, unsure of the controls. It would be in the best interests of the mission if they at least had a commander who knew the ship."

"Fine," said Onasi, his tone nothing short of a snarl.

"And I would appreciate it if you would post Miss Hael there as well. She is the only one on our side, besides myself, who has any experience on the ship, or any Empire vessel for that matter."

Admiral Onasi turned quickly to face Lorn, his expression dangerously neutral. Suddenly it clicked in Lorn's head, this man was jealous of Lia's affection for him. Lorn had known for a while that he could easily pursue a relationship with her, but the pain of losing of his family had originally prevented him from doing so. His loss felt so raw that even thinking about another woman that way was like cheating on his wife. Six months had taken the sting out of it though, and now knowing that another man was interested in Lia made her automatically more desirable. Lorn resolved to get closer to her, and stake his claim.

"I'll go and tell the lieutenant then, Sir," Lorn said when Admiral Onasi did not reply. He turned smartly and marched out of bridge. As he left Onasi in his wake, he couldn't help but think _round one, to me_.

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**O'Dus prison, Pandema system – Marka's Cell**

Marka sat on the cold metal floor, meditating.

For four days now he had been given no food or water. He hadn't slept; the screaming Sith holocrons made it impossible. He didn't understand the language they spoke, if indeed it was a language, but they conjured horrific images in his mind that were enough to drive him mad. He had meditated for four days, trying to resist the dark side. He had tried concentrating on his kinder emotions, but they had quickly led to darker ones. And he could not shake the hold fear and anger currently had on his heart. Meditation detached him from all his emotions, which were amplified a hundred times over by the Sith poison in his veins.

_Marka stood over young Sindra, who lay still. Her pants had been ripped down to her ankles. Her limbs were stiff and twisted in odd angles, like a toy doll. She turned her dull eyes upon him and said, "You said you would protect me."_

Marka's closed left eye twitched uncontrollably as the vision ended, but otherwise he gave no indication it had affected him, and remained in his meditation. The visions were stuff of nightmares. They were never the same; it was like the holocrons were probing for a chink in his defenses, trying to find what would make him tick. They were getting consistently worse too, and Marka was getting weaker by the day with the constant mental and emotional battering. He could feel Kaya on the other side of his bond, she was sick with worry for him. She couldn't be too far away, judging by how strongly he sensed her emotions she must be on the same complex, and less that half a kilometer away. But he couldn't afford to feel anything towards her, not now. Marka had built barriers to prevent her from affecting him.

_Marka was on a barren plain on Arn. Pierce stood before him, his side facing Marka, covered in wounds but alive. With a cry of delight Marka swooped in to embrace him. Then Pierce turned to face him, half his face was sheared away. He looked down, Marka followed his gaze, horrified to see Pierce's wife Icadrin lying at his feet. Pierce opened his shattered mouth and said: "You permitted this."_

The pure malice of the image caused Marka to flinch and break his meditation. With his defenses down the next vision drew him far deeper in.

_He stood outside the Sedan academy and town's walls, the gates opened for him unbidden and unmanned. Everything beyond them was destroyed. He was walking through the academy where he had spent most of his life. Everywhere was in destruction and death; the streets were awash with blood. Bodies of those who had followed him seemed to stare at him accusingly, every one of their dead eyes saying: "We trusted you."_

Marka reeled as though being subjected to physical blows, trying in vain to resume his meditation. As though sensing weakness the holocrons intensified their assault, shouting ever more horrifying images into his head.

_Marka was walking towards a room; he couldn't stop himself. There were screams and cries of delight coming from it. Marka extended his hand and the door opened. There was his beloved wife, Kaya, and Ramon, engaging in sexual bondage before his eyes. Marka turned and fled, but their mingled cries of ecstasy grew louder and louder the further he ran away. Suddenly he was in front of the scene again, Ramon turned to him and said: "You tried to suppress me."_

Marka moaned, covering his ears with his hands. "No more, no more," he begged.

_Marka was with Kaya, smiling at their newborn child in her arms. Kaya raised their baby to her lips, as though to kiss it. Tenderly she lowered her head to its neck and opened her mouth. Leisurely she bit through the infant's neck, ignoring its screams. Marka cried out, and tried stop her, but it was like there was an invisible barrier in his way. Rich, red blood spurted as Kaya ripped the newborn's head off. Blood was dripping from her mouth as she said: "You didn't want this child."_

Bile spurted from his throat, Marka vomited on the floor, no strength to make it to the toilet. "I can't take it, I can't take it any more," he moaned pathetically, spittle dripping down his lip, "Make it stop. I DON'T CARE ANYMORE." he screamed suddenly "The dark side can…"

The holocroms stopped screaming, Marka opened his eyes and raised his head. There stood his father, Harn, glowing brightly. Marka broke down and wept.

"I know, I killed you, you don't have to say it. Please." He whimpered.

"You had no other choice," said Harn.

Marka stopped weeping and drew a ragged breath, raising his head slowly. "Dad?" he said, not daring to believe.

Harn's gleaming face split into a grin. "In the flesh…well, not quite."

Marka tentatively put a hand on his father; it went right through. "Is that really you?" asked Marka. "How can you be here, you're…well…"

"Dead," finished Harn, smiling. "I know."

"Then how?"

"The spirit does not die with the body. We all have a different journey that we take after life, according to how we lived."

Marka stared at him, not listening to a word he said, "It is really you!"

"Of course it is, my boy," his father replied, snorting with amusement. Then his air changed, his manner becoming more business-like. "I have stalled the poison in your system, but when I go it will return in full force, that was the best I could do."

"Its okay," said Marka gratefully.

"What you don't know," continued Harn, "is that Sith poison can be beaten."

"It can?"

"By resisting the lure of the dark side five times."

'And how would I know which efforts constituted resisting the dark side?' Marka thought.

Harn answered his thoughts as he continued, "Your efforts to resist for the last four days count as though you had resisted twice. Your control in front of Fer'rer counts again. Therefore you have to resist just twice more to be free. But be warned, it will get even harder to resist. And if you give in even once, you have to start all over again."

"I came so close," murmured Marka.

Harn nodded. "When I leave, the holocrons will start again. But you will not have to endure them for long, help is on its way."

"Who, Never? The Republic?"

Harn shook his head. "That I cannot tell you," he sighed."I must leave."

"Wait," cried Marka. "Will I ever see you again?"

"That I cannot tell you," Harn repeated.

"Is there anything you can tell me?" begged Marka, wondering who in the afterlife made the rules.

Harn paused. "Only this: There will come a time when the one you know as 'Never' will ask you to do something that will break your heart, and the heart of one you love. You must do this thing; the fate of the galaxy depends on it."

Marka struggled to imagine what that would be, but then he noticed that his father was fading. "Dad!" he cried in anguish, his fingers going through his father's insubstantial face.

"Proud of you, m'boy," said Harn, smiling as he faded from view,

Suddenly the holocrons started to scream again as though they had never stopped, and Marka felt the heat of the Sith poison re-enter his blood stream. They both seemed more intense after the brief respite. But Marka was stronger now, and resumed his meditation, cutting out all emotions. As Marka entered deep Meditation, he thought he heard the hint of a whisper.

"Remember the prophecy." 

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The 'Jaeger' – Space, Pandema system 

The Republic fleet blasted out of hyperspace with one Sith cruiser added to their number. In the distance was a large speck, which Lorn knew was Pandema, the dark planet, the throne world of the Dark Lord of the Sith. It was the most highly fortified system in Sith space, with numerous space stations, weapons storehouses and the greatest concentration of ship- and armament-building facilities in the Empire. It was here where the largest Sith academy resided, the Dark Lord's own, it had nearly a thousand resident Sith and apprentices. Lorn knew that there were generally at least twice as many ships patrolling the system as the size of this Republic fleet. Twelve thousand ships might be the best that the Republic could come up with at this time, but it wasn't going to be enough.

"So O'Dus is one of the moons of Pandema?" asked the Jedi Master Bastila, who had chosen to travel on Lorn's vessel rather than the already notoriously unpredictable and bumpy 'Archon'.

"Yes," answered Lorn. "There are five moons in all. Three of them are covered with industry, shipbuilding especially. Their names are Munn, Vonan and Nebi. The fourth, Plau, is uninhabitable due to its extremely volatile volcanic surface. Dus, the shadow-moon, is the fifth. There is nothing on its surface but black rock and five massive scattered prison complexes."

Bastila, who had been silent throughout the explanation, shot an angry glance at some crewmembers who had stopped what they were doing to listen to Lorn. As soon as they saw her expression they scampered away. "And which one do you think they'll be in?" she said.

"Every prison complex is known by a vowel attached to the moon's name," explained Lorn. "Most of them will probably be filled now with rebels. But there is one that situated on the center of the moon's dark power that is only ever used for Force sensitive who are to be turned, and Sith who have betrayed the Dark Lord. It is there the Greys will be."

"And what is its name?" asked Bastila.

"O'Dus," whispered Lorn. It was said that the very soul of the Dark Lord resided there; the moon was evil.

"Why didn't they simply kill the rebels when they were caught?"

"They aren't doing them any favours by keeping them alive there," Lorn retorted, perhaps more sharply than he meant to. "Believe me when I say that death is infinitely more preferable."

They stood in silence, watching the bright spark of Pandema grow ever larger. After a short while, the voice of Admiral Carth Onasi was relayed through every intercom of every ship. Every ear on board the 'Jaeger' listened intently.

"_You all know the stakes, the success or failure of this mission could very well determine whether or not the Republic will be able to weather this upcoming storm. Here we stand, in the heart of this 'Dark Empire'. And yet our objective is not one of destruction, but of mercy. We each have a part to play, and I expect every man and woman here to do their duty. We fight for our comrades, our friends, our families, our children. But most of all, we fight for peace. When this day is done, the Sith will know and have cause to fear us. Long live the Republic!"_

The 'Jaeger' erupted with cheers. Even Lorn gave grudging applause; it had been a pretty speech. He turned to see Lia at the communications console, she was cheering as hard as the Republic crewmembers, her face flushed. Lorn grimaced, _round two to him._

The Republic ships flew ever closer to Pandema, and the shadow-moon Dus. On the monitors, Lorn could see Empire ships scurrying to form up into a sizable fleet. He folded his arms and said softly, "The opening has long since done. Play has been made; the pieces are in position. Now the endgame begins."

Stay tuned for 'The Rescue of O'Dus", Part 8 of Star Wars: The Dark Empire Episode 1 – Exodus 


	9. Part 8, The Rescue of O'Dus

**Star Wars: The Dark Empire **

**Episode 1 – Exodus**

**Part 8 – The Rescue of O'Dus**

-----------------------------

**O'Dus prison, Mass containment area**

Jadan Iscarn, only true apprentice of Sith master Rengath Fer'rer, marched between the many rows of containment cells; glaring periodically at prisoners that he recognized. Weaklings, how could they have fallen away from dark side? What had possessed them to betray Master Fer'rer, why had they willingly doomed themselves, joining the losing side? Jadan spotted a young man in one of the cages that he recognized as once being one of his greatest supporters. _Traitor_, Jadan knocked him with the Force into the cell's shielded walls, causing a massive flux of electricity to pour into the young man. He screamed; smoke pouring from his body, the smell of burning meat filling the area. Flames burst on his skin, the horrid sizzling of boiling fat adding to the stench. The man finally stopped screaming, but his body continued to smolder. Jadan turned, unmoved, noticing that the nearest other prisoner had vomited at the display. Another wet herself in fear. Others in the vicinity had different expressions of controlled dread and defiance, but even there fear lurked just below the surface, oozing though the pores of their skin. Jadan shook his head in disgust; they were cowards as well, cowards and traitors.

Jadan continued walking between the numerous cells, absently noting a strikingly beautiful woman with long black hair out of the corner of his eye. He stopped, and turned to get a better look. Although all the women in the academy had grown noticeably more attractive during the time after he had left during the academy, during the time they had been turning away from the dark side of the Force, Jadan was sure he would have noticed this woman before. Her beauty was striking.

Jadan reached the woman's cell, and tapped into its databank about the current inhabitant. 'Lucia Cabanic' was the name it gave, and then churned out details of her birth planet, rank, age, height, weight and a whole host of other useless information. Jadan quickly stopped looking at them though; he was far more interested in looking at the woman's face. She was currently deep in meditation, and did not so much as glance up at him. _So this is the woman Marka married_ Jadan noted mentally. But something was wrong; she looked different to the Lucia that Jadan had known; who had been amongst his supporters. She was stunning, far more beautiful than the old Lucia who had merely been plainly pretty; her facial structure was different too. That couldn't all be Dark Side markings being undone. Yet Jadan was sure that he had seen that face somewhere before.

The young woman opened her eyes, blinked, but otherwise gave no indication of shock. Jadan stared into her irises, he was certain Lucia had had brown eyes before they had turned yellow. That couldn't be right; this woman though definitely had blue eyes. Jadan snarled, the colour reminded him of Marka, the greatest betrayer of them all. Yet there was something appealing about the innocence in that face. Jadan then noticed that the roots of her hair were a different colour to the rest of it. Again, that couldn't be right, Lucia had been one of the few with naturally black hair, or so Jadan had believed.

"You have no right to wear your hair like that," Jadan grated. The style was meant to show the pure blackness of the woman's heart, and was often backed up by black make-up. But this woman was a traitor; she had no right to be claiming dark purity for herself. Jadan focused on the Force, the air thickening around the woman's head. Then it burst into black fire. Lucia shrieked, but no sooner had the sound escaped her lips when the flames where gone. Her hair, now purged of dye, hung reddish-brown and curly.

Jadan stood stock-still, he recognized her. She was the other Jedi; the young pretty one, the one Marka had captured. Jadan's breath caught as he realized the ramifications. Marka had married a Jedi, a Jedi! He had fallen far further than Master Fer'rer had ever thought. And yet, this information could be the death of his rival. Jadan certainly didn't want Marka returning to the Dark Side, he had been a thorn in his side for too long already. No, it would suit his purposes far better if Marka were dead, and this Jedi might just be the perfect excuse to kill him. What was her name again? It was short…Clay…Kae…Kaya; that was it.

"You've come up a lot in the world, _Kaya_," he said, she twitched slightly at the use of her true name. "From Jedi prisoner, with no life expectancy, to wife of one of the most powerful Sith in the empire." The nearby prisoners started looking incredulously from him to her, obviously they hadn't known.

"He is not a Sith," said Kaya quietly, her blue eyes leveled at him. "He never truly was. And he never will be."

Jadan was taken aback, she wasn't afraid! She was regarding him as though he were beneath her, something vile but not particularly dangerous. _I will break you_ he swore, and set about to do just that.

"Turning the academy, bold move," he commended her mockingly. "Was it your idea or Marka's?" he continued without waiting for an answer. "I've been interrogating your lackeys, interesting bunch, truly interesting. They use Sith fighting techniques, have a Greys philosophy on moderation and seemed to have developed morals that can only be described as Jedi." Jadan sneered "You've created a new order between you two, aren't you proud. What're you going to call them, the Cabanics?"

Kaya stood up boldly to face him. "These men and woman," she said, gesturing at the prisoners all around her, "Will be backbone from which the Republic will draw its strength in the coming war." The others nearby were looking at her as though she were mad and dangerous.

"Ah yes, five hundred ex-Sith against the might of the Empire," said Jadan loudly, stepping back and raising his arms as though he were speaking to an audience. "Which includes, by the way, a mere three and a half thousand fully trained Sith." He lowered his voice again, and smiled. "But of course, you've all been captured, you're not going anywhere."

Just for spite he added, "Marka will be carrying out your execution as soon as he turns back to the dark side. It won't be long now."

Kaya shook her head "Not true, he came close yesterday, but he is as strong as ever now."

"He had half a bottle of Sith poison injected into him," Jadan laughed "Nobody has lasted more than a day with that amount in them, and he also had the tender mercies of thirteen of the choicest holocrons," Jadan shuddered slightly at the thought, then finished "I repeat, it won't be long now."

She merely smiled.

"Anyway, how do you know? What are you, bonded?" Jadan laughed weakly at his own joke. "No matter, he can't last forever. He's been in there five days already; even if you did get him out he would still fall. Sith poison cannot be purged, there is no antidote, it can't be beaten. Holocrons of that type can drive even Sith masters insane, Marka doesn't stand a chance. And he's not going anywhere."

"By the time this day is done, you will know exactly how true that statement is," she said smugly.

"What is that supposed to mean, little Jedi?" Jadan snarled.

Kaya smiled again, giving that annoying, superior, all-knowing smile. At some level this excited Jadan, his loins stirred at the though of forcing himself on her. But the timing wasn't right. It would hurt and scar her certainly, but he needed to expose more chinks in her armour for it to break her. Then she would fall. Jadan had enjoyed breaking the other Jedi woman's spirit, and this one was even prettier. Instinctively Jadan realized he had now the perfect new avenue with which to attack.

"Do you know what we did to the other Jedi that we took?" he said, knowing that the memory of her companion would hurt Kaya.

"What other Jedi?" she said, confusion written all over her face "I was the only one taken alive."

Jadan's face lit with glee, the softhearted fool hadn't told her. "The other woman, Belaya. Oh come on now, surely your loving husband told you about her."

"He told me that I was the only captive taken," she admitted.

"He lied to you," Jadan goaded. "She is still very much alive. Of course, she has seen the folly of her old path."

"You monster, what did you do to her?" whispered Kaya in horror.

"Not just me, the entire Sith circle. She begged for death many times, but we would never give it to her. She soon began to see our point of view."

Kaya was silent for a moment, and then she asked, "That's why Marka's father was killed, wasn't it? I always wondered, and he would never tell me. His father tried to rescue Belaya, before she was taken away."

Jadan nodded. "Very good, little Jedi. Too bad your lightsaber skills and Force potential don't match your wit and spirit, you would be formidable." Sensing weakness he continued, "I'll arrange for you to meet with your aunt, you will see how much more…unrestrained she has become."

"You animal!" she shouted. "No, you are much worse than an animal, no animal is needlessly cruel."

"I am a Sith," he said mildly. "I wonder, when you fall to the Dark Side, will you get bored of Marka and share your passions with me? Your aunt was enjoyable, but you look a real treat."

Kaya flushed angrily, but the defiance stayed in her eyes. "Marka is a better man, and more powerful than you will ever be. He will unman you."

Jadan snorted and scoffed "I'm not scared of him, he's…" Suddenly huge red lights on the ceiling began flashing, sirens wailing warnings.

"Attack alarms!" shouted Jadan_. Who would have the nerve to attack Dus?_ "Demetrius, Aro, come in, over…" he raced off contacting his two bodyguards who had survived Arn, forgetting totally about Kaya.

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**The 'Archon', Space, Pandema system**

Carth smiled as salvos of lasers and missiles smashed into the last two Empire cruisers. Slowly they began to shatter, hundreds of explosions rippling through them, the _Archon's_ crew cheering them on. The way was now clear for them to send down their shuttles onto the prison moon. Carth had had a good mind to send bombing teams to wreck destruction on Pandema and its three industrial moons, but Lorn had warned him that all of them had massive shield generators powerful enough to last a day of continuous pounding from a fleet the size of the Republic's. No, as much as he regretted missing the opportunity, they had to be in and out as quickly as possible. The planet and its moons had defenses enough to seriously cripple the Republic fleet if it got any closer, that much was obvious from scan, Lorn had warned them also. Even now their long-range missiles and lasers were inflicting damage to the Republic fleet, not enough to be significant, but certainly not negligible.

"That was the last of them," Carth said into the command console "All landing pods prepare to disembark."

There was nearly a minute of '_Roger_s', a petty officer on the bridge marking down all the ships that were ready. When he was satisfied that all the landing pods still in commission were ready, he gave the thumbs-up to Carth, who gave the order.

"All pods away. Good luck." He then patched through to a fighter-bomber squadron. "Blue Alpha, do you copy?"

"_Roger, Admiral_," replied the squadron leader, his voice crackling with static.

"I need for you to defend the pods as they descend, but particularly pod Y6-23. Nothing must happen to it." That was the pod his son Dustil and daughter-in-law Mira were in. The pod also contained all the other Jedi on the mission except Bastila; and as such its survival was highly important for the sake of the mission. Carth quickly convinced himself that was why he was taking the excess precautions. As he watched the pods drop from the various ships, ignite their engines and shoot towards the black moon, Carth wondered which among them would be the vital one.

"Sir, we're picking up multiple signatures of enemy ships approaching," called a dark skinned officer from besides the _Archon's_ sensor array "It could be as many as many as eight thousand!"

Carth quickly moved to see what he was talking about. Sure enough massive readings were coming in. They were still far enough away though that only the _Archon's_ sensors could have picked them up.

"How long have we got?" said Carth to the officer, taking a quick note of his rank, which was sub-lieutenant, and his nametag, which read 'Chaka Guni'.

"Around twenty minutes, if they come in slowly so as not to expose weakness, sir," sub-lieutenant Guni replied.

"Get Lorn on the line," Carth growled, hating the fact that he would have to ask the other man for advice. "In the meantime, warn the other ships to prepare for incoming bandits. And tell Mission to hurry up with getting that multi-laser operational. I have a feeling we're going to need it."

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**The 'Jaeger', Space, Pandema system**

"…You know it's the only way!" said Lorn exasperatedly. "Nobody else in the fleet has any inkling of the Empire's tactics or how to counter them, and if I'm constantly relaying my suggestions to you, we will waste valuable time that could cost many lives, maybe even the battle. I have experience in…"

"ALL RIGHT!" Onasi shouted from the other end of the line, cutting Lorn off. "But just remember that I'm the Admiral here. And tell Bastila to begin her Battle Meditation, the first few minutes of the landing on Dus are going to be crucial."

Lorn turned to Bastila; she was already in a meditation position. Lorn had never seen Battle Meditation before; it wasn't practiced in the Empire, he intently watched the light shifting ever so slightly around the Jedi Master. The comm.-link with Onasi's voice a few seconds later snapped him out of it.

"Admiral to all ships. I am delegating the temporary rank Sub-Admiral to Commander Lorn. Obey him as if he were me…until further notice."

Lorn stiffened angrily. The last part really hadn't been necessary, and had just been said to spite him. Nevertheless, he now had rank second only to that of the Admiral, if only for the duration of the battle. _No doubt that bloody stalker will demote me as soon as it's over_, provided of course that they won. Then he noticed Lieutenant Hael checking him out with far more interest than he had ever seen before. She turned away, face burning; quickly enough that Lorn knew his suspicions were correct. He knew from experience that nearly all women were drawn to power; the more power, the greater the appeal. _Round three to me_

--------------------------------------------

**Pod Y6-23**

Brianna Kae was going through all the calming meditation exercises she had ever learned, crammed between Mical and a Republic commando, whose name she did not know. She had never been an excitable person by nature, and years of Echani training had taught her to mask her emotions. She had never been afraid when engaging the enemy physically, but this, plummeting from the sky into enemy territory with a chance of being shot down before she had even set foot on the ground; it terrified her. Since she had reached adulthood nearly eight years before, she had only ever been truly afraid once before: The day Jezebel the Exile had come for Atris.

The pod started to shake violently. Brianna grabbed something and gripped onto it tightly, her jaw clenched and eyes wide. The fact that others sitting in the crammed circle were looking even more afraid did not help. Four in the shuttle were seasoned Republic commandoes, and while they certainly did not look relaxed, they didn't appear about to throw up or urinate, which was how Kaah and Dustil were looking. Mira though, who was sitting opposite Brianna next to Dustil, smiled and gave a thumbs-up. For a moment she considered turning to see how Mical was faring, but the pod shaking even more violently dashed the impulse out of her head. Dustil bent over and retched noisily, the smell of bile filling the enclosed space. As the shaking subsided into its previous level of shaking, which now seemed positively smooth by comparison, one of the younger commandos followed Dustil's example. Brianna had to go through a calming technique to prevent herself from doing the same.

Brianna could see some of the monitors on the ceiling from where she sat. Most were giving various readouts too quickly for her to make sense of them, but one was a monitor showing little blips that indicated the other pods. One dot winked out, then another, they were being shot at! Not much in contrast to the amount of pods, but the thought of being shot down still made Brianna feel sick. The smell of vomit did not help.

Finally the shaking stopped, and the pod finally flew smoothly, shaking ever so slightly as the engines changed gear. The monitors showing what was outside came to life. One of the commandoes remarked to another how much easier the entry into a moons atmosphere than to a planet's. Brianna was busy collecting her scattered wits; she looked into the television monitors, and gasped. The entire moon's surface was black rock, with sharp jagged cliffs and valleys everywhere. In the distance a volcano poured out black smoke, and every so often vents spurted out green gas that looked volatile enough to eat away metal. She squeezed harder on the thing that had been such a comfort to her. It moved, and its fingers entwined hers. Brianna blinked, and turned to Mical, who wasn't looking at her but smiling in a very self-satisfied way; unwittingly she had grabbed his hand during their decent. Mira grinned from the other side, pointing them out to Dustil, who still looked half ill. Kaah snorted, and looked away. Brianna felt her face heat, but she did not let go Mical's hand; it fitted in hers.

The fleet of tiny ball-like pods skimmed just above the surface of the moon, their destination quickly coming in sight.

--------------------------------------------

**O'Dus prison, top levels**

Mira leapt out of the hovering pod, falling a few meters. She rolled as she landed, absorbing the impact, and immediately was on her feet, lightsaber ready and ignited. Dustil landed beside her, the other three were already down. As soon as Dustil was up and signaled that he was all right, although still quite pale, the five Jedi ran in the direction of the control room, or rather towards the area where Lorn had told them to expect it. Their mission: to deactivate the main detention center, releasing the prisoners, and deactivating the automatic defenses.

"Quickly," cried Kaah, who was the most senior Jedi among them, "The Sith will surely try to execute their prisoners as soon as they realize that we're here to rescue them." Mira shook her head as they ran. Men, no matter which species; couldn't help but state the obvious.

A group of perhaps thirty legionaries noticed the Jedi and moved to intercept them; a well-placed thermal detonator from Mira's modified grenade-launcher dramatically reduced the odds though. The remaining soldiers barely had time to recover before the Jedi were upon them, and did not pose too much of a challenge. They ran on, encountering basic defenses, booby traps, shielded rooms, war droids and some forms of defense that they had never seen before. Nothing a basic premonition sense couldn't detect beforehand, though, and a lightsaber cut through. Mira and the Jedi burst into the controls room, startling the Empire technicians, who reached for laser pistols far too late.

Mira immediately tried to hack into the network. "Damn it, they have eight layers of security systems." Each one could take her hours to break through.

"We don't have time for that," cried Dustil. He seemed about to continue, but then lights went out. The screen Mira was working at and all the other screens winked out as well.

Mical de-activated his strange half-green, half-blue double 'saber, the lack of its light plunging the room into complete darkness. "That should take care of it," he said evenly, and moved out of the room, the other Jedi quickly falling in behind him. Mira could have kissed him when she finally fathomed what he had done, with the power to the room cut the system went offline, and so would the automatic defenses and the containment cells. In a massive oversight, the Imperial forces had not thought to install a back-up system in the O'Dus prison. They would pay the price in full now.

"We need to secure a path for the prisoners to escape," said Kaah, who had taken the lead again "They're going to be confused, scared and defenseless." Mira had to bite back a sharp retort; did the Twi'lek think they were stupid?

"I think we secure the west side of the compound," said Mical. Mira was about to ask why the west side was better then any other, when the roar of a colossal explosion that sent gigantic black boulder hundreds of meters into the air, nearly deafening her. The shock of it lifted her off her feet; she landed hard on her hands and knees, only just managing to hold onto her lightsaber. Echoes of it groaned hoarsely back from nearby valleys. When Mira looked up, she saw that the entire western wall had been shattered. All the other Jedi turned to stare at Mical.

"I told some of the engineers in the first wave of commandoes demolish the western wall," he explained, his cheeks going red. "We needed a point to evacuate the prisoners from, and the western wall was as good as any. I think they were a bit overzealous with the amount of explosives."

A _bit_, the whole wall was in ruin, they had only needed a large hole. Hopefully they hadn't killed any of the people they had come to rescue. But the plan had been a good one; certainly the shock of the explosion would have sent the guards into disarray. When the other Jedi continued to stare at him Mical blushed brighter and said, "Well, are we going to secure it or what?" Mira suddenly realized that there was far more to Mical than she had originally realized, there was courage in that one, determination and a brain. She wasn't the only one; a new light of respect for him glowed in all the Jedi's eyes. Kaah nodded, and the five Jedi set off at a run towards the western side of the compound.

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**O'Dus prison, Mass containment area**

Kaya broke her mediation, stood up and stretched; ignoring the quizzing look Ramon was giving her. She stepped out of her shielded cell the exact moment that it deactivated. There was a moment of shocked silence, and then the voices started, jubilant shouts of 'We're Free!" and the like. The sound from five hundred voices quickly grew deafening. Ramon moved to her side determinedly.

"How did you know that was about to happen?" he demanded.

Kaya stood shock-still "I don't know, I just…knew."

Ramon studied her face for a moment, perhaps searching for a sign of deception. "Well, we've got to get out here before we're recaptured. I guess that 'Never' person came through for us after all."

Kaya nodded "Yes, and that means the Republic will be here. Ramon, you have to lead everybody to safety. In Marka's absence, you are in charge."

Laman and Banali joined them, as Ramon retorted, "You lead them to safety; I'll go into the catacombs and find Marka."

"If do that, both you and him will die."

"Please, let me do this. I have to prove my loyalty to him."

"You will get your chance," Kaya promised, "As soon as everybody is safe and you have that Force-inhibitor off." Ramon tugged angrily at the ugly metal contraption that adorned his and every Sedan ex-Sith's neck. Kaya raised her voice to a shout, "Everybody in the centre of the room move to the sides, quickly!" men and women scurried to the sides, driven by the urgency in her voice.

Kaya set off at a run, Ramon, Banali and Laman in her wake. A booming explosion shook the room, driving them off their feet. Kaya looked up; cracks were snaking across the ceiling. Black rocks the size of houses broke off, smashing into the floor with titanic force. Chaos reigned for half a minute as rocks fell amongst them, everyone running out of the way as quickly as they could. As soon as the rocks stopped falling, Ramon ordered all of them together for a head count. Thanks to Kaya's timely warning and the premonition sense they all had (which even Force-inhibitors could not block), nobody had been hurt.

Kaya started to speak, but immediately some began turning their backs to her "Listen to me," Kaya said desperately, "With these we are all sitting ducks." She said grabbing at the inhibitor around her neck "You have to listen!" she cried frantically.

"We heard what Jadan said," said young Unor coldly, half-turning back towards her. "You're not Lucia, you're a _Jedi!_" If most hadn't heard before, they certainly knew now. Unor began to step towards her menacingly, dozens at his back "You are the reason this happened to us, you and Marka. It was your ambition to turn us into tools for the Republic." Ramon stepped in front of him, Banali and Laman at his sides. Laman's Greys backed them up, with others that walked closer to the light side, or had a special loyalty to Marka joining them. But they were a minority, and the atmosphere was quickly turning murderous. Most though seemed not to want to get involved; they were too weak from lack of food, water and sleep; coupled with torture.

"Look, I know there is some explaining to do," said Kaya "But this is not the time or place. Republic forces have entered this complex; they're here to rescue us. Imperial troops are coming as well, they've been ordered to kill on sight. We have to get to the west side of the compound."

"How do you know this?" Banali whispered to her.

"She has a gift," Laman answered for her. "I'm not sure how it works, but I think it would be best to trust it."

"Truce – for now," said Unor angrily, "But this is not over by a long shot."

Ramon smiled. "Then we go," he said, and briskly took charge of them.

As Kaya watched him pick up a little girl who looked near death, carrying her as gently as he could, she suddenly found that she liked him a lot more. He had changed a lot from the womanizer who had cared about no-one besides himself. As the five hundred Sedan ex-Sith moved towards the western wall, many practically dead on their feet and others helping their even worse off comrades, Kaya turned in the other direction.

"Where're you going?" asked her friend Banali.

"I have to find my husband," she replied, and ran into the deep catacombs of the prison. The vision was clear; he would need her. She had to be there for him.

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**O'Dus prison, Middle levels**

Jadan, Demetrius and Aro ran into Rengath's view just as the huge explosion ripped though the prison. Rengath was only just able to keep his feet; Jadan and his bodyguards as well as the woman besides Rengath weren't so lucky. Jadan pulled himself up brushing his black pants angrily.

"Master, there is a group of Jedi among the attackers," he reported, sounding both excited and vicious at once.

"How many?" Rengath asked. He certainly wasn't afraid of a few poorly trained Jedi, they would certainly be no match for Sith. But they were only five Sith in the complex currently, enough Jedi could overwhelm them.

"Five."

Rengath smiled, they could have dealt with twice that number. "Take the others," he said "and kill them all. But spare me one woman; I would enjoy having another Jedi for sport. Don't you agree?" he said to the woman beside him. Huge scars criss-crossing her face and Sith tattoos covered every inch of her exposed skin, making it barely recognizable as a human being's.

"Yes, master," she rasped out of her reconstructed voice box, a strange glint in her yellow eyes, which rested in black hollows.

"Master," said Jadan, giving a quick glance at the scarred woman. "May I have a private word?"

Rengath nodded, Jadan came closer to whisper in his ear what he had learned about who Marka's wife really was. Rengath snarled; that could cause unnecessary complications. "I'll keep her with me," he said, motioning to the scarred woman. "You take the other two." Best not to expose her to any part of her former life, she might begin to have serious doubts about her path. Anyway, three Sith should be more than enough to deal with five measly Jedi. "Take as many soldiers as you need. Don't return to me until all of them are dead."

Jadan nodded, and ran out of view with Demetrius and Aro, drawing his lightsabers as he ran and talking into his comm.-link.

Rengath quickly reviewed the tactical situation; there was little he could do to stop the prisoners from escaping, there were simply too few legionaries stationed on the complex and now the defenses were down as well. But his fleet was easily within striking distance. If they destroyed the Republic fleet, they would kill all the prisoners, or even re-capture them. Rengath was loath to lose all his retainers, but it was better than them escaping to the Republic to become Jedi enemies. He patched through to his fleet Admiral, and ordered him to attack. The Republic fleet would be engaging the resident fleet in a few minutes, eleven thousand rusty Republican ships against eight thousand superior, state-of-the-art Imperial. Rengath's fleet was nearly five thousand strong. Against such numbers the Republic wouldn't stand a chance.

There was still the problem of Marka; there was a chance he would get out of his cell now that everything was off-line. Despite everything Rengath still wanted Marka to return to him, men and women with his potential came only a few times a generation. He still hadn't turned to the dark side. Then Rengath turned to the scarred woman, remembering the history she had with Marka. Perhaps she could be used to push him over the edge.

"Come with me," he said to her "we're going to catch our traitor before he gets far."

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**O'Dus prison, the ruined western wall**

"You are the Sith from the Sedan academy who rebelled against the Sith teachings?"

Ramon nodded, looking half-bemused at the deep-purple alien Jedi who had spoken. He was basically humanoid, but no human ever had those appendages hanging from their head. Fortunately the other four Jedi were all human, so were most of the Republic soldiers with them. Even still, Ramon found it disconcerting looking into the face of the non-human Jedi, he'd never seen anything like him before. In the Sith empire, besides the Arnon's, there were no non-human sentients, they'd all been exterminated millennia ago.

A white haired Jedi woman motioned to a small ravine just beyond the destroyed wall. "There are shuttles ready to evacuate you all."

Ramon nodded, and gave his thanks. "Just a bit longer, hold on little one," he whispered to the girl in his arms. She needed water, and fast.

Further away, the purple Jedi cried, "Here comes the first wave, brace yourselves!"

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**O'Dus prison, deep Catacombs**

Marka braced his body against the thick metal door, pushing with all his might. The Force-inhibitor around his neck blocked his ability, but he could still sense things through it, and he knew that the electromagnetic lock on the door had deactivated, making escape possible. Even so, the inhibitor rendered him all but defenseless; so unless he could arm himself quickly when he got out, he was as good as dead. The Holocrons were still screaming, determined to undermine his efforts to escape. Marka ignored all the visions they planted in his mind; grimly pushing as the heavy metal door slowly began to move. His volatile emotions seethed just below the surface, but he had control over them.

Finally a crack appeared between the door and the passage. Marka panted and pushed, his muscles straining to the point of tearing. Slowly the crack widened, slowly he began to see true light again for the first time in five days. It hurt his eyes, but he kept pushing. His back ached, his legs were burning with agony; his shoulder was being crushed against the metal; even though he was using his arms to expand the area the pressure was being exerted on. Finally the area was large enough to slip through, he fell on his chest and rolled under the door as it sealed again with a squelch.

Marka came to his feet unsteadily, his glowing yellow eyes regarding the three wrecks of men before him. They must have been released like him with the cells down, although they had only been in shielded cells, judging from what Marka could see behind them. His cell had probably only been sealed with the metal door to prevent the sound of the holocrons from affecting anybody else outside.

He knew their names, they were spoken like a curse among the Sith. Maugrim Babbadon, Anamos Yukil and Idrus O'del, the three Sith Masters that had attempted to overthrow Darth Messiah nearly ten years ago. They and their four apprentices had managed to ambush the Sith Lord while he was alone, while their combined forces had attacked Pandema. Nobody knew what had happened in the fight, but somehow Darth Messiah had overwhelmed seven of the most powerful Sith in the Empire single handedly, many of them Yoshi Ma masters. There had been rumours about that fight, that the Sith Lord had used some special technique to defeat them all, some even said that he had a unique weapon of unimaginable power. All the apprentices had been killed, but the Sith Masters had been taken to O'Dus to live out the rest of their tortured existence, a constant reminder to the others and their replacements.

Marka stared at the three slobbering old men, unable to put a name to each of the faces. They had aged thirty years in less than ten. All skin and bone, their hair thin and white and gums rotting, open sores leaking pus all over their bodies. Madness glinted in each of their yellow eyes. This was what Dus did to its prisoners over long periods of time, the dark side tormenting all of its inhabitants. Guards had to be rotated off the moon every two weeks to prevent them from succumbing to the madness as well, and duty on O'Dus was by far the least popular prospect for the legion. The three old men started advancing on him, their steps unsure but determined. Their mouths worked, as though they were trying to speak, but all that came out were demented noises. One of them snapped his jaws hungrily, pulling futilely at his Force inhibitor; another extended his arms towards Marka, who was slowly backing away until his back hit the wall.

The last reared up and spoke with a snarl. "At last we have you, my Lord. Your rule ends this day."

Marka gave a start; he'd expected another incomprehensible noise. These mad old Sith obviously thought they were facing Darth Messiah again; their advance was now oozing with violent intent. Why did they think _he_ was Darth Messiah? Regardless of their demented reasoning, they intended to kill him. With nowhere to run except through them, Marka had to defend himself.

Marka charged, diving feet first at the lead Sith master, who did not react fast enough. The blow shattered the man's brittle ribcage, and Marka landing on his chest drove two ribs though his lung and into his heart. The second caught Marka from behind immediately as he landed, attempting to lock his arms and bite his neck. Marka broke the lock with practiced ease, and rammed his palm up the man's nose, forcing the cartilage into his brain. He was dead before he hit the floor. The last backed away, growling and spitting.

A dark shape loomed behind the last Sith master, and an orange blade snap-hissed as it ignited and sliced into the hapless man. Marka backed away as a Sith woman covered with tattoos and scars stepped into the light, her lightsaber threateningly low. Marka turned to run; unarmed and with his access to the Force cut off by the inhibitor he stood no chance against her, and found himself face-to-face with Rengath Fer'rer.

"Going so soon, my apprentice?" hissed the Sith master.

The Sith woman came up behind Marka, who stood frozen still, and held her now deactivated lightsaber to his throat while her other arm roamed around his body. "He's a handsome one," she croaked through a voice box that sounded like it had been surgically repaired. She licked his ruined left ear and bit softly into his neck as her left hand strayed down towards his crotch. Marka stood absolutely still, trying to ignore the waves of revulsion, mingled with arousal. He then felt even more revolted for feeling aroused. The Sith poison magnified it all, it was all Marka could do not to lash out at the woman. If she were alone, he knew that he would have had some hope of being able to disarm her. But with Fer'rer in front of him, he did not stand a chance. Silently he fought again against the hold the Dark Side's hold on his emotions forcing himself to feel nothing at all, as her touch grew ever more nauseating.

"You remember Belaya of course," said Rengath, watching the scene before him with mild interest. "The Jedi your father tried to rescue."

Emotions of that fateful day welled up. Marka's veins were rivers of emotion, every heartbeat bringing of more of them into his brain. His vision filled with red, as he remembered again what Rengath had forced him to do to his own father. Marka's face was screwed with controlled rage, black veins coming into view and his face going greyer as rage smothered all his other senses.

'Help me, please,' he pleaded softly into his heart. Like a miracle, he felt all of Kaya's love and faith in him pour through the bond, washing away all his dark emotions away. His vision slowly cleared, and his mind. He'd been a fool to block her out; he was not strong enough to redeem himself from bondage to the dark side alone. Only Kaya's unfailing love could save him.

She was coming.

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**Stay tuned for 'Redemption and Despair', Part 9 of Star Wars: The Dark Empire Episode 1 – Exodus**


	10. Part 9, Redemption and Despair

**Star Wars: The Dark Empire **

**Episode 1 – Exodus**

**Part 9 – Redemption and Despair**

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**O'Dus prison, deep Catacombs**

Kaya ran through the deserted halls, drawing ever closer with every step to Marka, her heart. She could feel his inner struggle, for the first time since he had woken up he had allowed her in. As she ran, she sent all of her feelings for him through the bond, feeling his struggle as he fought against his demons. The seductive lure of the Dark Side threatened to overwhelm him time and time again. Kaya was sure the feelings she was sending him were all that were stopping him from falling. But he couldn't last for long like this, the vision had been clear; she had to get to him quickly or he would die, or fall.

Sprinting as she felt Marka's nearness, she rounded the corner into a passage and found herself face to face with three of the ugliest people she had ever seen. One was completely hairless, without even eyebrows. His pasty skin wrinkled and uneven on his ravaged face, and the pale sheen of sweat looked like slime from a Hutt. The woman who was groping the young man could have been beautiful once, but the scars that criss-crossed her face and exposed body and the Sith tattoos that covered those scars and every other inch of her skin gave her the look of a dangerous maniac. Kaya stared at the young man for fully two seconds before she realized that she was looking at Marka, her husband.

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM?" Kaya screamed, as she rushed towards them. The vision had never showed anything like this. Nothing could have prepared her to see him like this. The left side of his face had been shredded, his ear ripped in half. Far worse, though, was the grey colour of his skin and the way his veins pulsed under his skin, both marks of the dark side. And his eyes, his beautiful grey-blue eyes; glowed a poisonous yellow.

"…And here's his pretty Jedi wife," said the bald man, regarding her with interest. "Aren't we one big happy family?"

"Kaya?" croaked the Sith woman, sounding mortified. She released Marka and moved away from him as quickly as if she had suddenly realized he had the plague.

"Kaya, the Jedi," growled the man, turning from the woman to her, and then finally to Marka. "I'm amazed, my apprentice, by how far you have fallen, how deep your betrayal has gone."

If the man had referred to Marka as 'my apprentice' he must be the Sith master Rengath Fer'rer. And the woman, she didn't recognize her or her voice, but there was something familiar about her. Searching through her feelings, she came up with the only possible answer, the most terrible one imaginable. The woman was…

"Belaya?" she whispered tearfully, looking from her to Marka. His yellow eyes met hers, and understanding flashed between them. He couldn't have done anything to save her, and hadn't told her simply to ease her pain. Kaya wished, though, that she had known. It would have made the painful moment of seeing her aunt, twisted beyond recognition and a mockery of all she had ever stood for, easier to bear. But she understood why Marka had done it, and she forgave him.

Meanwhile Belaya had turned on Rengath angrily. "You said she had been killed at the same time as all the others!" she accused him, her voice a gurgling-hiss.

"I thought my apprentice would have been sensible enough to finish with her soon after I left," growled Rengath "Apparently I was wrong."

"And if she had known, she'd have been able to hope, and you couldn't have allowed that," said Marka sardonically; earning a vicious Force-blow in the midsection that sent him keeling over and groaning in pain. Kaya gave a small cry and ran over to him, but as she reached him she suddenly found she was no longer moving, and was surprisingly high up. She shrieked with fright as she realized that Marka's old Sith master held her in the air. She was helpless.

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**O'Dus prison, the ruined western wall**

From just inside the compound, Jadan leaned out slightly. Republic soldiers and the five Jedi fought off the first wave of attackers. The Republic soldiers were quite good as soldiers went, certainly better quality troops than the Imperial forces that were guarding the compound. However, as drop-soldiers they were almost certainly elites, and they were nothing on the Imperial Blackguards. Jadan then focused on the Jedi. They were pathetic, he'd seen Sith apprentices fight better. The only one who looked even slightly competent was the purple one with worms on his head.

"Next wave, we attack. Go straight for the Jedi," he whispered, Aro and Demetrius nodded with acceptance, silently stretching their muscles.

Soon more legionnaires arrived, Jadan quickly had them organized. This was the last sizable detachment of troops in the prison. The troops that had been sent to kill the prisoners; but had arrived too late. They had to break through the Republic lines, or the traitors would escape. All except one, the crown traitor, Marka.

At Jadan's command, the legion surged forward, the three Sith at their head. Lasers were spitting from both sides, being deflected in some quarters by Jedi and Sith. Jadan hit them hard, having already killed two from deflected blaster fire. Two more commandos fell instantly, gaping rents in their bodies. More shots came at him; he deflected one back to the sniper, dodging three more. With his training and Force-sense it was just too easy. Another came at him with a contortis-woven blade; Jadan blocked his blow, pushed him back and slashed him open; all the while deflecting lasers properly with his other blade.

Finally, two Jedi rushed him, seeing the damage he was doing to their forces and having dealt with five legionnaires between them. One was a dark-haired, dark-eyed young man, noticeably tall although not nearly as tall as Jadan, with twin lightsabers. The other was a much shorter woman, with red hair and striking green eyes. They were working in tandem, but their level of skill was so much lower than his that Jadan was able to take them both on at the same time, as well as any commandoes who ran near. No more lasers were aimed at him now, they must be afraid of hitting their Jedi. Fools, it was the only tactic they had at their disposal that might take him down, and they weren't using it. They were weak; they deserved the quick, painful death he would certainly give them.

The young man had potential; with his blades he was able to almost constantly engage Jadan's left. He hadn't learned all the proper defensive Force techniques though; a quick blast sent him flying backwards. Jadan turned on the red-haired woman, regretting that he would have to kill her. He would have loved to break her; she would have made a pretty pet. A quick Trakata technique sent a blade through her heart, her eyes widened in surprise. Jadan slipped his blade out as three more commandoes ran at him; two strikes and all three were down.

"MIRA!" the young man cried as the woman fell, his face as shocked as hers. Shock gave way to rage, and he charged. Jadan sneered; he loved her, how touching.

Five more commandoes charged slightly ahead of the young Jedi, their faces nearly as murderous as his. Two legionnaires had moved to Jadan's side during the fight, obviously deciding that his constant deflection of lasers and killing all enemies within reach bettered their own chance of survival. Now seeing the odds set against them, they beat a frantic retreat. Jadan would have killed them for cowardice, but he couldn't afford to let his guard down. He switched to Yoshi Ma, dropped four of the enemy commandoes in a second. Even through his rage, the dark-haired Jedi's shock and fear were apparent. Only one left, and the Jedi.

Suddenly Jadan found himself with two more opponents; one was an old man he did not know, the other was certainly Banali; both of them traitors. They were both armed with two lightsabers each. Faced with three lightsaber wielding opponents with six blades between them, Jadan was forced to pull back. Banali wasn't that strong, but the old man surprisingly was. Jadan could have dealt with him alone easily, but with so many opponents he could never hope to win this fight. Flight was his only option.

As he pulled back to the relative safety of the prison, he noticed Ramon was attacking Demetrius, using a white-purple, double-bladed lightsaber that Jadan knew instantly as Marka's. Demetrius had been beating the purple-alien Jedi; but now faced with Sith-trained Ramon, an opponent of exceptional caliber, she was badly outmatched. Nearby, Aro was being beaten back by the two Jedi he faced, the blonde man and the white-haired woman. Jadan cursed, three traitors had somehow gotten lightsabers and had joined the battle, swinging it firmly in the Jedi's favour. On his own, Jadan could have beaten the old man, and Ramon, although he would be tougher. But while two opponents were extremely difficult to face, three was suicide.

"Fall back!" he commanded, deflecting blows from the enraged dark-haired Jedi, who was slashing wildly, without much skill. A low slash from Jadan would have taken off his legs if Banali hadn't defended for him. Jadan had no time for follow-up attacks; all three of them were attacking in unison. He leapt backwards, back-flipping and landing lightly. Aro was running into the relative safety of the compound, the remnants of the Imperial guards close behind him. Ramon was close on their heels, vengefully striking down guard after guard. A quick glance was all Jadan needed to see that Demetrius was dead, he cursed. Thinking quickly, he blasted the ground with the Force, spraying fine, black sand into the air, creating a virtual sandstorm. Shielding his face, Jadan ran back into the compound. If they were to dislodge the Jedi, they would need Master Fer'rer and Belaya's help, and they needed their help now. Jadan immediately tried to patch though to them, then remembered neither of them had bothered to take their personal communicator. He cursed again, it had been needlessly foolish of them, but swearing would not help the situation. If he could not patch through to them, he'd just have to find them, and Marka's cell would be a good place to start.

Aro was busy catching his breath beside the top of a staircase. In the small space of the stairway a single Sith could stop any number of opponents, for an indefinite period. "Wait for me here, and stop the traitors if they try to follow," Jadan snarled, not caring that the man looked ready to bolt. A conflict seemed to play across Aro's face. Jadan knew what it was, he was deciding if he was more afraid of their enemies, particularly Ramon, coming inside; or Jadan's wrath if he ran.

"See that you are here when I return," Jadan hissed, the threat in his voice as thinly veiled as a cantina dancer. He spun on his feet and ran at a full tilt down the stairway deep into the bowels of the prison. Even now, he knew, traitors were escaping.

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**O'Dus prison, deep Catacombs**

Marka lay, watching horrorstruck as Kaya was lifted into the air. It was a technique frequently used by Sith on victims they were about to torture or kill with the Force. By raising them so their feet no longer touched the ground, they could not get away. Most also panicked when they found themselves floating; which made extracting information much easier. But this could not be happening to Kaya, not Kaya! He charged at Rengath, only to be swatted aside as easily as a stray leaf. Nearby Belaya stood stock still, eyes wide, as though not quite believing what was happening.

"Come back to the Dark Side," Rengath warned "or she dies." His hands rippled with energy as if to emphasize his point. "Last chance."

Despair crushed Marka like a ton of rubble; he yanked hard on his inhibitor, not caring that it was cutting into his neck and causing fresh blood to run down his spine. He would do anything to save her, even fall to the Dark Side. But if he fell, he would be forced to let go of all his attachments, including her. She would almost certainly be killed in that scenario. How he longed to be able to help her, but there was nothing he could do, nothing at all! If he could not save her, at least he could remain true to what she had taught him about life, love and the Force. Even if it cost him his life; even if it cost him her.

Rengath suddenly flinched, "She's pregnant! My my, apprentice, you have been busy." He laughed hideously "While you make up your mind, I'll just get rid of this little inconvenience." Rengath gave a few quick motions, Kaya shuddered and cried out as invisible blows rammed into her abdomen. Marka felt the pain she was in through the bond; silently he cursed himself for not being able to do anything. Fresh tears leaked down his cheeks.

"You'll kill her, and the baby," said Belaya, speaking for the first time since she had found out that Kaya was alive.

"That's the idea," cackled Rengath. A conflict seemed to play across Belaya's face, but Marka did not care, he was beside himself with grief. His heart was being tortured to death before his eyes.

At the edge of his vision, Marka noticed Belaya's expression harden. The sudden snap-hiss of a lightsaber took both him and Master Fer'rer by surprise. Rengath twisted desperately to avoid Belaya's strike, releasing Kaya. Marka sprinted to catch her as she fell, while Rengath drew, igniting, and blocking Belaya's second slash in one fluid motion with his curved red 'Makashi' hilt blade. In less than five moves she was struck to the floor, chopped just below her breasts, her hands gripping in death-lock onto her still ignited blade. Marka's heart sank, she had been doomed as soon as she raised her blade against the Sith master.

"The wage of betrayal is death," said Rengath, turning back to them and deactivating his lightsaber.

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**O'Dus prison, deep Catacombs**

Kaya was in unbearable agony as she lay in Marka's arms, her stomach muscles were clenched up, she was sure she would lose the baby. But even through her pain she spared a glance for her aunt. She looked up into Marka's face, and noticed something strange happening. Colour was returning to his grayish skin, the veins were receding. Most disturbing were his eyes, blue and yellow were swirling in a vortex, the blue slowly dominating. Rengath was staring at him too. Marka closed his eyes for a long second, when he opened them again, they had stilled. Miraculously they had returned to their natural crystal-blue colour. He looked down at her and smiled, his whole face lighting up with warmth and love. He had done it, he had beaten the Sith poison. The terrible scratch marks down the left side of his face remained, but otherwise he was wholly restored to his original looks, if a little more gaunt after a week without food. Marka's smile twisted into a snarl and his blue eyes went as cold as ice as he turned to look at his old Master.

"You resisted the dark side," said Rengath faintly, if his eyes widened any further they would probably pop out of his head. "You beat twenty doses of Sith poison."

"Deeds speak louder than words," gasped Kaya through her pain.

Rengath snarled with anger "I still have half a vial left, but if you've already resisted Sith poison it won't work again on you. Even if that wasn't the case, I don't think another twenty doses would make much of a difference." Electricity started to crackle across his body as he finished "As you will not return to the dark side, you have no further use for me. Goodbye."

Kaya wrapped her arms around Marka's neck, hugging him tightly as she closed her eyes, the crackling of electricity growing louder. They would die together in each other's arms. She buried her face into Marka's strong neck, and waited for the end.

It never came.

Suddenly she was aware of Marka putting her down, and quickly moving away. Rengath was lying facedown on the floor, his face snarling and eyes wide in frozen surprise, Belaya's lightsaber sticking out of his back. Kaya stared at the top half of Belaya's body. She had thrown her lightsaber into Rengath's back while the Sith master was concentrating on forming his excessively powerful lightning, his premonition muffled by his huge use of power. Belaya raised her head slightly and smiled at Kaya, the smile only one totally content with their lot can give. Then her head dropped down to the stone floor, her now-brown eyes glazing over. She had come back to the light in the end; her last act had saved them. Kaya was weak with relief, but she knew their ordeal was far from over.

"Goodbye," she whispered, fighting back tears.

Suddenly a rough hand grabbed her Force-inhibitor, creating space between it and her neck and half choking her. Marka ignited the lightsaber in his other hand, the lightsaber that had originally belonged to the Sith master, cutting through the inhibitor and quickly pulling it off, the heated metal searing her skin. "There's no time to mourn," he told her "we have to act at once if we're going to save the child." He already had his Force-inhibitor off.

Kaya felt his clumsy healing reach into her as soon as her inhibitor was off. She used her more practiced skill to guide his greater power. Their hearts beat in unison, as they poured all their power into saving their dying baby. "You're not afraid to be a father any more?" said Kaya, remembering his reaction when he had first found out about her pregnancy.

"I want this child," said Marka, pouring even more power into his healing as if to emphasize the point, his jaws clenching in exertion.

"Thank you," said Kaya softly, smiling girlishly. Thinking of nothing else she could give him, she stood on her tiptoes and brought her lips to bear with his. After a moment of surprise he was kissing her back just as fiercely and possessively. Their power merged, becoming something far greater either of them could have achieved on their own, the healing washing over both of them.

Marka gasped and pulled away. "What was that?"

Kaya shook her head, she didn't know. Marka suddenly looked far better, his face was far less drawn, and the weeping scratches down the left side of his face had sealed into scars. She was fully healed; the child inside her was alive and well. "She's alive," was all Kaya could say.

"She?" said Marka, recovering from his shock and stepping back into her embrace. "And how are you so sure?" he said, smiling so widely it looked painful. Kaya didn't think she had ever seen him look so joyful except on their wedding day.

Before she had a chance to reply Marka turned, his face intent; hugging her protectively as though sensing danger. A few seconds later Kaya felt it as well; she looked up just in time to see Jadan run into the passage.

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**O'Dus prison, the ruined western wall**

"I'LL KILL HIM! I'LL KILL HIM!" screamed the dark-haired Jedi Dustil, only just visible from where Ramon was through the fading dust cloud.

"You'll do no such thing," said the deep-purple Jedi Kaah who was holding him down, his face drawn with pain. He must have managed to tackle Dustil down during the Sith's retreat, stopping him from chasing Jadan into the prison, where he would have certainly been killed. This despite that one of his worm-like appendages hanging from his head had been sliced in half during his fight with Demetrius, and he was obviously in a lot of pain.

Ramon looked down at Demetrius' body, from the gaping wound he had created in her chest to her face. She had been his first; she had used him for her own perverse pleasure, and then discarded him. She had been twenty-one then; he had been twelve. Thinking back Ramon knew that had been a huge influence in why he had become the way he had become.

"_You are a womanizer,"_ Marka had told him bluntly not so long ago _"and you seem to like to make lesser men, without your looks; strength or power feel like exactly that"_

Maybe it was time to put the demons of his past to rest. Kneeling down, he closed Demetrius' shocked eyes, and stroked her hair back. "I forgive you," he whispered, three words a Sith would never say. It was like a weight was lifted off his shoulders; suddenly the sky seemed much brighter, even the black rocks had their own beauty.

The stench of death filled the area, the smell of burned flesh, blood and open bowels. Ramon's stomach clenched, he could never get used to that stink. Screams of the wounded and dying, the tears of men forced to put their stricken friends and comrades out of their misery. The red haired Jedi's body was shaking, her limbs stiff. She wasn't alive; it was just the result of muscular tension when she had died, Ramon had seen it many times before. Others were twitching, but she was shaking the hardest, as though her body would not accept that she was dead. At the sight of her, the strength went out of Dustil, Kaah let go of him and he crawled to her, crying out her name.

"If that's what it means to be in love," said Banali softly, moving next to him. "May I never know it."

Ramon did not reply, he watched the young Jedi gather his wife in his arms, rocking her gently, even as she continued to shake. The other Jedi came around him, putting their hands on Dustil's shoulders, his grief too great for words. Ramon knew that if it had been him who had been killed he would have received no such mourning. She had been much loved; he was unloved. The only one who would probably mourn his passing was Marka, and only as an asset; wait …Marka! He was still in the prison.

Ramon sprung into action. "You, Kaah, get those two back to the shuttles," he ordered, pointing to Dustil and the body of Mira. None of them would be any use in combat at the moment. "Laman, you're in charge of the defense of this sector. I doubt that they will come again, but if they do you must be ready." He would have done it, but he had to find Marka. Kaya had said he could go, as soon as the others were safe and he had removed Force-inhibitor. That had been the first thing he'd done after he'd found the small stash of lightsabers in the first shuttle, quickly planting the young girl he had been carrying in the arms of a caring Republic officer.

Kaah started to argue, but at that point two of the shuttles that had come down to pick up all the evacuees lifted off the surface, and blasted upwards in a deafening roar, drowning out his words.

"We could all escape right now," pointed out the blonde Jedi Mical.

"We leave no-one behind," admonished Laman, "Marka's still in there, and Kaya."

"Kaya Weston?" Kaah said, his eyes widening. Ramon turned to him, evidently he knew her. But now was not the time or place to discuss it.

"Marka's your leader, right?" said Mical. At Ramon's nod he added, "Can I come with you?"

Ramon smiled; he liked this young man already. Between the two of them they might be able to take on Jadan, maybe even Master Fer'rer. He'd have liked to take all the Jedi with him, and Laman and Banali; but they nearly all the Republic commandoes were dead or wounded, and the shuttles had to be defended.

"Lets go," he said, and set off at a run.

--------------------------------------------

**The 'Archon', Space, Pandema system**

The battle had just begun, and with Lorn giving most of the orders Carth had begun to feel a bit useless. With nearly ten thousand ships each side he hadn't ever been in as large a space battle, excluding the terrible last one of the Mandalorian wars. Ships were being destroyed every second, lasers, missiles, fighters, mines, all work of weapons attacking, and defending. While Bastila's Battle Meditation gave the Republic a noticeable advantage, and they outnumbered the enemy; the Sith ships were of much higher quality, with the sole exception of the 'Archon', and their crews generally better trained. Tactically they were on even terms, but that was only because of Lorn's extensive strategic knowledge. If it hadn't been for the Battle Meditation, they would be losing badly by now.

Suddenly a huge new blip appeared on the command screen, Imperial ships were blasting out of hyperspace just behind the volcanic moon of Plau. Carth quickly estimated numbers, there were five thousand at least. That many would certainly turn the battle in the Empire's favour.

He patched through to Lorn as quickly as he could. "Tell Bastila, if there's any way she can step up her Battle Meditation, she has to do it now. If we haven't got a good advantage by the time their reinforcements come, we're finished."

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**Pandema, Meditation chambers of the Dark Lord**

Darth Messiah smiled as he felt a slight power increase from the Jedi using the unusual technique he had never seen before. It irked him that the Jedi had been able to come up with a powerful Force technique that neither he nor any of his Sith had discovered. But he had latched onto her Force signature now, even from this range she would not last long. He pushed both his hands under his robes as he moved into meditation position.

Blackness swirled, sucking the light out of the room as he began his attack.

--------------------------------------------

**The 'Jaeger', Space, Pandema system**

Lorn half-turned as he heard the Jedi Master give a scream of terror.

"Lia, help her," he cried. With the battle in full swing he could not afford to attend to Master Bastila. She had stopped using her battle meditation, and the effect was considerable. The Imperial fleet was coming back strongly, their more powerful ships and better training beginning to tell. Lorn barked a series of orders, making the Republic ships form up closer to stop holes in their ranks from forming.

"I can't," Lia wailed. Lorn looked at her more closely, Bastila looked as though she were being assaulted by shadows. They were attacking, but blindly, as though they knew the general area but not her precise location. She was fighting back with the Force, but not doing very well. A nearby officer tried to push one away, but as her hand touched it she screamed. The life was sucked out of her body before their very eyes, decades worth of aging appearing in seconds. When she finally fell to the floor she looked at least a hundred, and she couldn't have been much over thirty. Lorn could almost smell the fear on the deck, the Republic officers were hardened soldiers, but they could not face the supernatural. Laser busts as well as Bastila's lightsaber went straight through the shades.

"Come away from there," Lorn ordered. This was out of their league; Bastila was in the Force's hands now. "And stop firing, you'll just hurt somebody, or damage the ship."

With nothing that he could do to help her struggle that was being waged just behind him, Lorn turned his full attention towards the space battle, which the Empire's fleets were beginning to dominate. And the reinforcements, which were blasting out of hyperspace and forming up around Plau, hadn't even joined in yet.

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**O'Dus prison, deep Catacombs**

Jadan stopped dead as he ran into the passage. Five bodies lay scattered around; three of them wizened old men. The other two were his Jedi captive-turned-Sith Belaya and his Master Rengath Fer'rer. He did not need to look far to see the culprits; Marka, his opponent, stood hugging the pretty Jedi girl, his wife, Kaya. He had to admit, despite Marka's scars and ripped left ear, he looked surprisingly good, no Dark Side ravages. Jadan had to assume that he had somehow been able to beat the Sith poison. The two had broken away now; Marka held Master Fer'rer's curved 'Makashi' hilt red blade ready and ignited. Jadan ignited his red and yellow blades.

"I never thought it would be this easy to succeed my master," he laughed. "Thank you Marka. With your death, this day will be complete."

"Don't count on it," said the Jedi girl boldly.

Jadan laughed, "You know what, since I'm such a nice guy, I'll let your girlfriend go. She gets a head start of however long you last."

"She is my _wife_," said Marka coldly.

--------------------------------------------

Kaya turned to him "I have to go now, don't I?"

Marka nodded. She was out of her league here, and the healing she had just gone through had taken a lot out of her. Marka pressed Belaya's orange blade into her hand, and understanding flashed again between them. 'Makashi' hilt blades were impossible to use effectively in conjunction with a second blade, and both of the lightsabers hilts were built to be used two-handed, while Jadan's were made for single-hand usage. Jadan was also far more skilled in twin lightsabers, and while Marka had specialized in the double-bladed variety it could be translated much more easily into a single weapon. And Marka would never have left Kaya to run through the prison unarmed.

"I'll bring support," she told him as she kissed him lightly and started moving away, Marka knew he would certainly need it. This was a fight he couldn't win, facing Jadan, who was his equal in lightsaber skill and his superior with Force ability. Jadan had his preferred weapons and his combat armour laced with contortis, and he was at full strength. Marka didn't have any of those things, and despite the healing he had inadvertently received he was far from full strength. Nearly all the fat had been drained out of his body during his imprisonment; he now bore a surprising resemblance to the male models that were so popular on Bentu'va, who starved themselves to make their muscles stick out. It would be a wonder if he survived this encounter. He started preparing defenses for any Force-related attacks Jadan might throw at him.

Jadan was advancing on him; neither fast nor slow, swinging his blades in wide arcs, Juyo style. Then he stopped, "What the Sith'ari is your woman doing?"

Marka didn't look back, that was the oldest trick in the book, getting your opponent to look away when you were about to attack. He turned, though, at the sound of Kaya's voice.

"Use it as a shield!" she cried, hurling Rengath Fer'rer's contortis-woven breastplate at him. Marka caught it one handed, quickly turning back to Jadan, making sure that he didn't pull a fast one.

Jadan hadn't moved. "I don't need trickery to beat you, Marka," he said, smirking at his opponent's reaction. "Use it as a shield, ha," he scoffed, "Armour, as a shield!"

Marka wrapped the chords that were meant to attach the armour to the body around his arm, never looking away from Jadan, gripping the largest bunch with his left hand. As a shield, Fer'rer's armour worked very well, as well as any he had ever trained with. It was one of the best and most expensive suits ever commissioned, armour made to withstand even the most powerful lightsabers. That Belaya's lightsaber hadn't burned through it after going through Rengath was testament to its strength. It had no backplate to get in the way of his arm – the lack had cost the Sith master his life– and its flexible base meant to protect the groin moved easily against his shoulder. Few trained these days in the ancient style of using lightsaber-shield combinations, mainly because even contortis-woven shields were destroyed very quickly when lightsaber blades were energized to full power. Marka had though. He moved into a classic en guard position.

"I love you!" Kaya called from far behind him.

Marka's face relaxed slightly, she was getting away. "And I, you," he whispered.

"How touching," said Jadan, irony thick in his voice. "I might have to shed a tear."

"She is away," said Marka calmly.

"She is not the one I want to destroy," Jadan retorted, swinging his blades in wild arcs as he began his charge.

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**Stay tuned for "Exit O'Dus', the epic finale of Star Wars: The Dark Empire Episode 1 – Exodus**


	11. Part 10, Exit O'Dus

A quick note here: with work taking up 12 or more hours of my day everyday (I get no days off) I have almost no time to write. So Episode 2 may be many months coming. This is the end of Exodus though. I hope you have enjoyed reading it as much as I have writing it. Thanks again go to uilleand.

**Star Wars: The Dark Empire **

**Episode 1 ****–**** Exodus**

**Part 10 ****–**** Exit O****'****Dus**

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**Space, Pandema system**

A squadron of bombers swooped down on a Imperial Battleship, their presence immediately detected by the enemy and a group of fighters sent to intercept them. Those fighters were immediately engaged by republic fighters that were covering them, and the bombers continued their run mostly unscathed. Sensing danger, the battleship focused all of its small laser fire at the bomber squadron, the two corvettes guarding against such an attack moving to the two sides of it, creating a deadly triangulated firing radius for anything coming towards the battleship.

"Sir, we've got to break off!" cried green five.

"Negative, this ship has got to fall if we're going to hold this sector," replied grizzled green one, a veteran of both the Mandalorian and Jedi civil wars.

Two of the bombers were immediately shot down as the squadron dodged and weaved in the firing web. Panicking, green five tried to make a break for it and broke formation. His craft was gutted in seconds, his scream of horror cut off nearly instantly.

"Hold formation everybody, I'll see if I can get us some help," ordered green one, and patched quickly through to the 'Jaeger'. In the time that it took for his message to be delivered and acted upon, three more of his bombers were down.

Then salvo's of lasers and rockets shot out in front of the squadron, fired by other ships in the fleet, striking the two corvettes and penetrating deep into their hulls. The corvettes stopped firing as soon as they were struck, destroyed or at least too badly damaged to be a threat. The battleship now had no cover, and although its gunners managed to shoot down two more of the bombers before they reached it, four got within firing distance.

"Aim at the bridge, plasma torpedoes only," said green one. One of the bombers was vaporised by a direct hit as he dropped his torpedoes, the others veered away afterwards in the direction of the fleet. The torpedoes ripped through the battleships shielding, through the vulnerable bridge and into the hold. Slowly, the huge vessel began to sink down nose first, the detonations ripping up the durasteel armour from underneath.

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**The 'Archon', Space, Pandema system**

"_Admiral, the multi-laser is repaired, you can fire when ready,__"_said Mission over the intercom, cutting through Carth's jubilation.

"Finally," muttered Carth, and ordered the weapon co-ordinators to aim at one of the massive Imperial Battleships. At last he could have a positive contribution in the battle, after having his position usurped by the ex-Imperial Lorn. Within seconds, the five thick solid beams of light were focusing on a single point at the front of the ship, which shot off at light-speed. It missed the battleship by a long shot, hitting instead the magma moon of Plau. Carth ordered the firing to stop, so that they could correct their aim, but instead of stopping the multi-laser's strength intensified.

"MISSION, WHAT IS GOING ON?" Carth roared, his eye's fixed on the reading for the ship's power cells, which was going down at a rate of about a percentage a second. If it went on for much longer the shield and weapons would fail, they would be a sitting duck. Not to mention that they wouldn't be able to get back home.

"_Err, we__'__re having a slight problem here,__"_ said Mission sheepishly, _"__The locking systems were set to be heat-sensitive, but they__'__ve malfunctioned, and locked onto the largest source of heat in the area, which is of course that hot moon.__"_

"And why won't it stop?" he demanded. The power was now down to below seventy percent.

"_The abort mechanism isn__'__t working, and under normal programming the multi-laser only stops firing when its target is destroyed.__"_

"Fat chance," Carth sat down heavily in his seat "Can you get that 'abort mechanism' up and running?" Fifty-five percent.

"_Chill Carth, we__'__re doing everything we can, talking is not helping,__"_ said Mission, the comm.-link winking out. Carth quickly looked around, fortunately none of his subordinates were in hearing range, they were all either in a state frantic activity trying to reduce the amount of power consumed, or looking despairingly at the power readings. He would have hated to have to discipline Mission for talking to him on familiar terms, providing of course that they survived.

Messages were coming in from other vessels, anxiously enquiring as to what their command vessel was doing shooting at a moon. Carth addressed them all personally, downplaying the situation to a minor fault with no lasting consequences. By the expressions on the commander's holovids, most of them hadn't bought it. Carth supposed that it was a bit hard to believe when there was a massive beam of laser connecting the 'Archon' to the moon of Plau.

Thirty-four percent. If they ran out of power, the generators would shut down and everything would go offline. It would take hours to get everything going again, and the ship would be a sitting target in the middle of a battle, a certain death sentence. The entire crew would have to abandon ship, and then they would have to destroy it to prevent the enemy from getting their hands on the design. They would have to sacrifice the most powerful ship in the Republic fleet! Thirty percent.

Then sub-lieutenant Guni, who was one of the few not panicking, called to him from looking at one of the screens. "Sir, we've nearly cut to the core of that moon. If we could manage a flux of power…" He left the rest unsaid.

Hope glimmered in Carth's chest. If they could destroy the moon, the weapon would automatically de-activate. And the multi-laser had been designed to be strong enough to destroy a small moon. This moon wasn't small, but certainly was not large either. He checked the power reading; it was only just above twenty percent. If it went below five there wouldn't be enough power left to regenerate the batteries, something the bridge crew and Carth were painfully aware of. If they were to act, it had to be done now. His order to pour maximum power into the main weapon was met with initial shock, but military obedience stopped anybody from questioning him, and they obeyed nearly instantaneously. The beam connecting the 'Archon' and the magma-moon of Plau thickened. The Archon's power was gutted, down now to below eight percent, and nothing was happening. Carth closed his eyes, his gut felt as though it were pushing up his throat. He opened his mouth to give the order to abandon ship.

Suddenly the moon exploded, as though it had reached the point where it could not take any more and the energy they had been pouring into it had been release all at once. The Imperial reinforcements that had been forming around the moon vanished in the explosion, and large and small pieces of the moon went flying in all directions. Most flew off into infinite space, but some smashed into the back of the Imperial fleet, which was taking immediate evasive action. The 'Archon's' crew's cheers were interrupted as they were forced to initiate avoidance tactics. The Republic fleet fared better; since they were facing the explosion they were better able to dodge the debris. They still lost scores of ships.

A large chunk of the moon was hurled into the nearest moon, one of the industrial ones. There was a brief flicker of shields attempting to stop the foreign object before the impact. The luckless moon did not explode, but half of it split away while the other half split into pieces, which crushed and bounced against each other. A massive piece of Plau was sent rocketing towards Pandema. Again the planetary shields attempted to stop it, these were powerful enough to have stopped the rock that was sent at its moon, and they caused enough friction on the meteorite to burn away half its volume. The whole planet shook with impact, earthquakes and ruptures on its surface visible even from space.

On board the 'Archon', the crew was frantically attempting to recharge the power, which had fallen to the dangerous level of four percent. The Imperials were in disarray and trying to reorganize, as were the Republic, Lorn at its helm. Carth did not have the emotional energy at the moment for feeling jealous at the other man for usurping his position, soon they would be drawing enemy fire, and with so little power their shields would not be able to last more than a few shots. There were tense seconds where nothing happened, then the power jumped up to six percent.

"_Thought you could use a hand,__"_ said Mission over the intercom.

Carth breathed a sigh of relief as the power moved up to seven percent, then eight. "How did you do that?" he asked.

"_You wouldn__'__t understand, with your greaseless hands,__"_ Mission laughed, then her voice grew serious _"__We weren__'__t able to isolate the problem with the multi-laser, so I would suggest you don__'__t use it again.__"_

"Believe me, I have absolutely no intention," Carth assured her, thinking back to the stress of the last few minutes. Still, with the destruction of the Imperial reinforcements, who had been forming up ready to crush the Republic fleet in one charge, they still had a chance. A chance provided by one of the greatest mistakes by a Republic ship. The Republic fleet had also recovered from the shower of debris blasting through them faster than the Empires, but they still needed Bastila's Battle Meditation if they were to win.

Carth then spared a thought for the untold millions or even billions that had been killed on the two moons and the dark planet as a result of their actions, their only crime being that they had been born into the Sith Empire. He remembered first-hand the devastation wrought on the Republic planets by the Mandalorians, and later Revan and Malak. He was no better now than they had been. As he stared into space, he remembered the phrase coined by Revan, which had later become synonymous with the Mandalorian wars, and the later Jedi Civil War.

War makes monsters of us all.

--------------------------------------------

**Pandema, Chambers of the Dark Lord**

Lord Delhano Sorge sprinted into his master's chambers, interrupting Darth Messiah's meditation. "My Lord," he gasped, falling to his knees at his master's feet "Plau has been destroyed. A sizable chunk of it is about to land on top of our heads, we must flee."

"Did you really think I did not know this?" Darth Messiah sneered, his face a black hole in Delhano's sight, as always. "How…loyal of you to come back for your _dear _old master when you could have taken his place had I died." The irony in the Dark Lords voice was thick.

The Dark Lord's apprentice was no fool though, he knew that for his master's to have survived as Dark Lord of the Sith for over nine hundred years he must have endured worse than massive meteorites, and if he displayed any dissention or even a whiff of betrayal reached his master's ear; his life would be measured in milliseconds. Fleeing for safety without his master would certainly qualify as dissention, and Delhano wasn't sure that he could have made it out of the blast radius anyway.

"You wouldn't have made it far enough anyway, in eight seconds everything five hundred kilometres from here will be turned to ash, everybody within eight hundred on the surface will be killed," said Darth Messiah, confirming Delhano's suspicion.

Despair came crushing down on the Sith Lord, but at that moment his master stepped towards him, so that he was standing over him. "Protect your eyes and ears," said Darth Messiah as he thrust one hand into the air, and another into his robes. _What does he have in there?_ Delhano wondered the instant before it happened.

The flash that came would have blinded him and the noise deafened him had he not quickly obeyed his master's instructions. In less than a second it was over, but then the terrible earthquakes started. Even as Delhano started to wonder how he was still alive, he was being shaken to a pulp. Lava spurted from the ground hundreds of meters into the air, curiously none of it landed on him or his master.

As the earthquakes subsided to minor shaking, Lord Delhano gathered his wits and stared at his surroundings. What had only a few minutes before been a bustling metropolis was now a blackened pit stretching as far as he could see, liquid lava spraying out of many cavities in the ground. Amazingly, the ground he and his master were on hadn't been touched, and the ground below it, a spire of untouched ground in the oblivion. Delhano turned to look at Darth Messiah, who did not notice his gaze and hadn't placed his normal shield over his face.

Delhano gasped aloud, "Master, you look like…" at that point Darth Messiah gestured, and the memory was blasted out of his cranium. Delhano was left in what felt like a drunken stupor, wondering who or what exactly his master had looked like.

A few minutes later, when he had recovered sufficiently, he stood up. Darth Messiah was facing away from him, near the edge of their tiny plateau. Delhano was tempted for a moment to attempt a push, but after his master's incredible display of power it would not surprise him to find out that he could fly. His face was shielded again.

"What now, master?" he asked in a deadened voice.

"Now the Republic wins," growled the Dark Lord of the Sith "I daren't attack their Battle-Meditator again, or we might end up encased in lava." Bursts of it were still spraying up, toxic fumes and ashes filling the air.

"Did you foresee this?" asked Delhano.

"Of course not, but it is not unexpected," his master snapped, "Luck, or the Force is helping our enemies, so that they can fight on even terms with us. But they will need a lot more than two truly competent Force-users to be able to take on the might of _my_ Empire."

"Marka," said Delhano softly, "but who is the other?"

"Perhaps the time has come to unleash the most deadly of my servants," said Darth Messiah, ignoring the question, "Korgal will certainly enjoy the challenge." Delhano had to stifle a shiver. In a stand-up knock-down battle he knew he could probably beat the other man, but Korgal did not fight that way, except as a last resort.

And on the small plateau, less than three paces across, the Dark Lord and his apprentice began to discuss how they might best turn the current situation to their advantage. As they talked, three questions hit Lord Delhano. There was the old one of how his master had managed to live for so long, but that was now linked to his new question of what the Dark Lord had hidden in his robes. And the final one - who or what he had thought his master looked like. If he could answer those three questions, Delhano was sure that he would be able to challenge the Messiah for supremacy of the Sith.

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**The ****'****Jaeger****'****, Space, Pandema system**

Bastila Neiro stood sweating in the icy interior of the Jaeger. She couldn't be totally sure, but she suspected the attacks were over. Who had been attacking her, who in the universe had enough power to attack somebody in a starship? Albeit very blindly. Whoever it was, she was sure that the distance separating them had been the only thing that had kept her alive, although that still did not explain why the attack had suddenly stopped. Perhaps the destruction of that moon had something to do with it.

Regardless, she could not risk her Battle Meditation again. Her attacker had definitely locked onto her force signature through it; the risk was too great that she would be attacked again. Lia asked her about it, Bastila explained it to her. She was impressed by how quickly the other woman understood something involving the Force, but then she must have spent a lot of time around Sith.

Lorn; who between giving orders to the fleet had been listening to their conversation; said, "If there were other Jedi here though, surely they would be able to defend you?"

"I guess," Bastila replied dubiously, "But they're all on Dus."

"We've just evacuated a ship full of Sith refugees. If you could get to them, you could get them to defend you."

"But they're SITH!"

"We have to win this battle if they are to survive. At the rate we are going, we will lose, or at least be bogged down enough that the Empire will be able to bring up more reinforcements. And this time there will be no exploding moon to save us."

Bastila sighed. He was right, she knew. "At least send somebody they will know with me," she said, looking hopefully at Lia, who was busy again at the communications console.

Lorn followed her gaze, and shook his head. "I need her skills. There are precious few on board who know how to work their station properly. And her work is especially important. I need to relay commands to the rest of the fleet, and it must be done properly. No mean feat considering that the Republic and Imperial ships work on a different communication system."

"Couldn't you intercept the Imperial fleets commands through your system?" asked Bastila.

Lorn shook his head in such a long-suffering way that Bastila was sure that she had just revealed again her lacking in military knowledge. "They change frequency and codes every thirty seconds, standard Imperial procedure, and we don't have their codes. By the time we've decoded a message, if we're fast, they'll have gone through at least eighteen more different ones."

Bastila blinked, she never would have expected such stringent measures. Reflecting though, she realised that if the enemy had access to your information it could cause untold damage to your forces, costing many lives. Lorn had in the meantime returned his full attention to commanding the fleet.

As she was thinking, Lia called out from her station "Two Jedi are rejoining the fleet. One has lost a lekku," she frowned, then continued, "And the other a wife."

"Mira!" Bastila gasped in shock. It could only be she who had died, Dustil must be distraught. The other must be Kaah, he was the only one with lekku. He must be in agony. Twi'lek lekku were the most sensitive part of their body, connected to their entire nervous system.

Thinking quickly she said, "Send them directly to the shuttle with the most Sith refugees, I will need their support." The escaping Sith would have seen them during their escape, so they would command some respect. She felt terrible for both of them, but she needed their help. And every second they waited would cost Republic lives.

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**O****'****Dus prison, Deep Catacombs**

Marka's eyes burned with blue-fire intensity as he met Jadan blade to blade, again and again. Lightsaber's hissed and danced, weaving through the air as the two combatants searched for an opening. Jadan had the advantage with his twin blades, but Marka's use of his shield was stopping the older man from capitalising on this advantage. Jadan switched forms every few strikes, testing Marka, who was holding fast in his favourite 'Sokan' technique. Its defensive capabilities worked surprisingly well with the unorthodox saber and shield combination. Both men had their blades at maximum power, Jadan to destroy Marka's shield quickly, Marka to slice through Jadan's armour if he ever managed to strike it.

Jadan had the definite advantage with the weapons he had specialised in, and was far fresher. He was also stronger in the Force, although Marka had improved enough to nearly be able to match him. Every now and again Jadan would attempt a Force-based attack, which Marka countered every time. Marka was facing another serious problem - his shield was quickly being destroyed by Jadan's hyper-energised blades, the burn marks going ever deeper. Soon he would begin to make holes in it, and then the shield would be useless. When that happened he would be left with a single blade against Jadan's two, he wouldn't last minutes.

As always, Marka fought coldly, emotionlessly, fuelling his weary body with his suppressed emotions and iron resolve. He fought clinically, conserving his energy wherever possible. By contrast Jadan fought in a rage, barely controlled, some of his shots little more than wild swings. Marka knew better than to try to try and capitalise on that apparent weakness, he had seen Jadan use similar ruses to kill many other opponents. It was one of his tactics to beat those who favoured defensive techniques, such as 'Sokan', drawing them into an ill-fated attack. Twin lightsabers were deadly in counter-attacks. But he could not last forever on the defensive, Jadan was too fresh, he was too drained.

Hack, parry, rim-poise, block, en-for-nine. Marka and Jadan had both been preparing for this battle for most of their teenage and adult lives, knowing that someday they must face each other, as they were now. It had always been inevitable, the two strongest apprentices of Rengath Fer'rer. Only the threats from their master had prevented them from facing each other directly before, although they had both found ways to surreptitiously try to do each other in, and now their master lay dead on the floor a few meters away. There were no words now. Both were utterly immersed in the deadly dance.

Marka, though, had changed. His burning desire now wasn't to kill Jadan, but to be with Kaya again. After the days of forced absence he'd had from her, he had yearned for her like he would have never imagined. To be with her again, he knew he would have to go through Jadan. His combat instincts told him that if he did not deal with him now he would have to face him again at a later stage. The other man would certainly seek him out, and the Force seemed to be pushing them towards a final confrontation.

Circling each other, searching all body movements for a hint of intent, they clashed again.

--------------------------------------------

**O****'****Dus prison, Staircases**

Kaya ran as fast as she could up the winding staircases. She had attempted the elevators, but all the mechanisms in the prison were off-line, including the elevators. Fortunately there were these ancient stairways to the surface, which looked like they hadn't been serviced or used in centuries. Parts of them were caved in, on more than one occasion she had had to use the Force to move rubble to be able to slip through.

Kaya was exhausted. With no sustenance or sleep for a week she was in no shape to be running up endless flights of stairs. The healing she had undergone had also taken a lot out of her. But she needed to find help -and fast- if Marka was to survive. While it hadn't been part of her vision, she knew that despite all his skill he could not possibly prevail against Jadan, not now. It was amazing in his state that he had been able to last as long as he had already. Kaya stifled a moment of pride for her husband, and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other as quickly as she could.

There was light ahead. Kaya breathed an inward sigh of relief, she was nearly at the exit. As she reached the top of the stairway though, she found herself face-to-face with a muscular Sith. He took one look at her and ignited his twin lightsabers, lunging with full force. Kaya desperately ignited the orange blade she had taken from Belaya, defending and retreating. The Sith man came at her like a storm, Shien form, his attacks coming in hard and fast. Kaya had to retreat backwards down the stairs, defending without thought of attacking. The Sith was far fresher than her and had the height advantage, coming down the stairs at her, while she had to watch her step. With his twin blades his attacks couldn't realistically be countered, she knew though that if she had had her double-bladed lightsaber this would be different. Force, she was sure that if she had it she would be able to beat him, but at the moment it was just a case of staying alive.

Then disaster struck, an especially strong blow sent her reeling, the Sith took the opportunity to lock both his blades with hers and throw her backwards. Kaya's foot slipped on a loose rock as she tried land properly, and she hit the floor hard, and slid down a few meters of stairs; where she lay stunned and weapon-less, tasting blood. The Sith advanced on her menacingly, leering in victory, his lightsabers aimed towards her defenceless body.

A second before he reached her there was a blur of motion, and her opponent turned away from her, his lightsaber's swinging at his new attackers. Another blur of motion, and he was on the floor, gasping his last breath. Kaya looked from the strange half-green half-blue double-lightsaber of the man who had killed him to a strangely familiar blonde-haired slightly toothy face. There was no mistaking the other lightsaber and face, Ramon, bearing Marka's purple-white double-saber. How had he got that? The blonde man knelt over her, and Kaya felt his skilful healing penetrate her body. Before she got up he slipped a capsule into her mouth, crunching it down Kaya recognised it a standard-issue food capsule. She washed it down with some water the blonde Jedi gave to her, and rose shakily to her feet with his help; while he introduced himself as Mical.

"Where is _he_?" said Ramon, handing her back Belaya's lightsaber, having just finished taking the lightsabers off the dead Sith.

Kaya knew exactly who he meant, there was only one person that Ramon referred to with that level of respect. "Follow me," was all she said as led them back the way she had came.

--------------------------------------------

**O****'****Dus prison, Deep Catacombs**

Jadan might have had a moment of regret at killing his opponent in his weakened state, had Marka still been a Sith. For a Sith to kill another using underhanded means shouted weakness, and other Sith might attempt to capitalise on that potential vulnerability. But Marka was an enemy now in every sense of the word, a Jedi, a traitor. He would lose no standing amongst the Sith for killing him like this, if anything he would gain recognition and prestige, perhaps even enough to be declared a Sith Master in his late master's place.

As Marka backed away from him, Jadan gave a quick assessment of the other's shield. It had proven amazingly effective, keeping the other man alive far longer than he would have otherwise, but it had reached the end. It was too badly scorched and melted to be useful much longer. And when Marka could no longer use it, he would die. It was that simple.

Marka must realised this as well. For the first time, he was the one who moved first and actually attempted a proper attack. Jadan simply met all his attacks with his right blade, while with his left calmly ripped pieces off the other man's shield. He had to admit, at some level he was glad he was not facing the other man at full strength, with his usual weapon. The contest would then be far too close for comfort. At the edge of his abilities Marka had just switched to Yoshi Ma, giving Jadan an initial shock at the level of the other mans skill before he followed form. Jadan himself had only just been recognised by Lord Delhano as a master of the form, and the other man was as good, if not better. Again, the twin-blade advantage was telling.

Then Marka changed tactics. He was still fighting in Yoshi Ma, but now he had switched to all-out aggression, knocking Jadan's blades out of the way as he sent flurries of cuts and stabs at Jadan, even using his shield as a weapon, taking Jadan by surprise. For the first time, Jadan found himself fighting for his life. Moving with speed, strength and a level of control that was humanly impossible, and could not be sustained for long even with extensive use of the Force. Jadan and Marka clashed and clashed again, too fast for the eye to follow. Marka's shield took more and more hits, bits flying off it.

Finally Jadan sent one of his lightsabers chopping through the top half of Marka's shield, he gave a cry of triumph, surely he had killed him. But the traitor had ducked low, and sent his blade in a sharp rim poise at Jadan, who wasn't expecting it. Only his Force-sensitivity gave him warning, he twisted out the way desperately as he attempted to block. But Marka altered his strike in mid-flight, the edge of it scouring his side. Pain pierced Jadan's consciousness as Marka's blade sliced through his armour on the weak side-plating and opened a shallow wound.

As Jadan backed away, he realised that the damage was far worse than the flesh wound, his armour straps had been severed by freak chance, causing his armour to hang loosely rather than skin-tight. He would have to remove it, if he had a chance. It would only get in the way of his movement otherwise. It was no great loss though, it would only slow down a lightsaber slightly, having been made primarily to defend against lasers. Then he glanced at Marka's shield and smiled, it was too badly damaged now to be usable. The battle was as good as over.

-------------------------------------------- 

**The ****'****Jaeger****'****, Space, Pandema system**

As Lorn watched the monitors, the Republic fleets lines suddenly started looking sharper, their movements more precise. By contrast, the Imperial fleets lines became more ragged, and their attacks almost sluggish.

"Battle-Meditation," Lorn breathed. He immediately began to wonder how much of an effect this could have for future battles. Certainly if they only had one Battle-Meditator it would not make a huge difference, a single person could only be at one place at a time, but if they had more, even half a dozen…

Taking the initiative, Lorn sent out a series of orders that sent the Republic ships into full attack on the weakest parts of the Imperial lines. For a moment they held, then the Imperial fleet's lines crumbled, turning in a moment from a unified fleet into scattered pieces of fleeing ships and pockets of resistance, which were systematically crushed.

As the last major pocket was overwhelmed, Admiral Onasi stepped in and resumed command, organising the cleanup. Lorn sat down and took a long sip of caffa, he was welcome to it. All they had to do now was get the last of turned Sith off O'Dus, particularly Marka. If he died, there would be no way of controlling the other ex-Sith, and all would have been for naught.

-------------------------------------------- 

**O****'****Dus prison, Deep Catacombs**

Marka discarded his shattered shield, transferring both hands to his late Master's red 'Makashi' hilt blade. The shield was useless now anyway, ripped nearly in half and damaged all over. Absently he noted that the angle Jadan had cut it off at had created a nice edge. Nearby Jadan was watching him warily, and judging his moment unbuckled his armour.

Marka had been waiting for the right moment to attack, and he would never have a better chance. Moving in Yoshi Ma form again, his body screaming in protest, he attacked again. Jadan tried to defend, but one of his arms was stuck in his armour, its movement badly restricted. Marka attacked with everything he had left, his blade dancing as it sought Jadan's flesh. Jadan retreated before Marka's onslaught as he sought to discard his armour, slowly being driven backwards into the wall.

Just before Jadan was forced into the wall, he managed to free himself from his armour, and hurled it at Marka, who kicked it away before aiming another slash at Jadan. But Jadan had both his blades free now, and scissored them both on Marka's blade, forcing him around so now Marka was the one with his back to the wall. Marka realised at that point that a Trakata technique, turning off his blade and re-igniting it a second later, would almost certainly be the death of his enemy, but with nothing stopping Jadan's blades he would be certainly be killed. And he did not want to die, even to take Jadan with him, he wanted to live. He wanted a family.

Jadan, however, wanted him dead, and now had him in the perfect position, with nowhere to manoeuvre. He drew back one of his blades, making sure it was far enough back that Marka couldn't grab the hilt in a desperate defense, the growl of victory already on his lips. Marka knew perfectly well that the strike at his legs was coming, he just couldn't defend against it without being decapitated by Jadan's other blade. Instantly he formed a desperate plan.

With no way to defend himself against the second blade, Marka tried to leap over Jadan. Time seemed to slow down as the blade followed his jump, slicing his feet off just above the ankles. Through his pain, in mid-air, Marka used the Force to block Jadan's premonition sense as he aimed a blow at his neck. Jadan didn't bother to undo the blockage to his senses as he defended, Marka's momentum carrying him over Jadan's head. Jadan sent a blast of lightning with his other hand, catching Marka in the chest just as Marka swept up his razor-sharp destroyed shield with the Force and sent it flying at the Sith.

Marka was sent flying backwards into the opposite wall from the force of the lightning, he struck solidly and slid down to the floor, electricity sparkling on his skin and every part of his body in different levels of agony. He could still feel his feet, even though he knew that they weren't there anymore. Then he looked at Jadan, and smiled. His plan had worked.

Jadan now lay moaning in two pieces, his legs and thighs severed from the rest of his body, thick artery blood spurting out of the gaping wound with his every heartbeat. The sharp half-shield was now imbedded beyond him in the wall, covered in blood, having sliced cleanly through. The Sith immediately cauterised himself with one of his blades, screaming in agony and roaring his hatred at him. Marka had to give him credit, few would have reacted so quickly or as bravely, he might even survive now, if the damage to his kidneys was repaired immediately. But Marka could not allow that, he had to finish the job. Slowly he started crawling towards Jadan, forcing himself to ignore his pain, annoyed that he hadn't been able to aim the shield properly the first time. 

"I hate you!" Jadan was screaming "I HATE YOU!" His mouth was foaming, his eyes wild. He blasted lightning at Marka with all his power, Marka caught it easily on his blade. A flurry of Force-based attacks followed, but Marka countered every one, drawing ever closer as Jadan's attacks grew ever more desperate. The Sith tried to drag himself away as he fought, but even Marka's crawling was faster than his dragging his half-body across the floor.

Marka finally reached him, and lashed out with his lightsaber. Now he had all the advantages, Jadan could not possibly fight with no control over his position, even his twin blades now made little difference; while Marka could knee-walk and hold an upright position. Marka forced him to overextend with ease and destroyed the yellow blade, giving a reverse slice that was meant to behead the other. Jadan pulled his body backwards desperately, screaming in fresh agony as the tip of Marka's blade ripped through his nose and upper jaw. Marka sighed inwardly as he raised his blade for a final strike, he had no wish to inflict further agony on the other, but he would kill him.

At that point his premonition sense alerted him, and as he rolled away; high powered laser blasts shot through the space where he had been milliseconds before. Six Imperial guards had entered the room, Marka's heart sank. Immobilised, he did not stand a chance against them.

Marka had a split-second warning, he didn't react fast enough. Suddenly he was flying, his ribs shattering as he collided with the wall, Jadan must have sent one final blast of Force at him. As he coughed up blood, forcing the pain to the back of his mind, Marka realised that his lightsaber had been knocked out of his hand during the impact. He was defenceless. He could feel his body begin to shut down, unable to take any more punishment, his heartbeat was slowing. So this was what dying felt like. He watched dully through pain-filled eyes as the guards quickly adjusted their aim towards him. In the end, there is only regret.

--------------------------------------------

"Faster, he's badly hurt," Kaya cried as her, Ramon and Mical exited the stairway and ran into the Catacombs, lightsabers in hand. They sprinted through the abandoned halls and corridors, dodging pieces of fallen debris, some of which looked recent, others which looked as though they had lain there for centuries.

They came to the room where Kaya had left Marka, only to find him gone. The fight must have taken him into other rooms. Using her bond with him as a compass, Kaya quickly led them to a nearby room. They entered it just in time to watch Marka fly into the far wall, striking with a sickening crack. Kaya winced, she was sure that was the sound of breaking bones. Five guards had their weapons levelled at him, Kaya froze for a second in absolute horror. Mical and Ramon fortunately did not, and both gave mighty leaps; Mical to place himself between Marka and the guards; Ramon to attack the guards.

As Ramon butchered the surprised guards, who were putting up little resistance, Kaya ran to Marka's side, noticing that a last guard was busy running away with something in his arms. But she turned all her attention to Marka, who was, she realised in a shock of cold, missing both feet and ankles. Worse, he was dying.

"Sto…Ja…" he gasped, his breath coming in short bursts. She put her hand over his mouth and poured her power into him, healing what she could, determined that he would not talk until she was sure he would survive. But he needed medical attention, her abilities were no match for his wounds

"You can talk now," she told him when she was finished, removing her hand from his mouth. He would be able to survive long enough to find help now. Nearby Mical had cut down the last of the guards, and was walking towards him.

Marka took a quick look, then said, "It's too late now, Jadan has escaped me. I fear we haven't seen the last of him," he sighed; took a look at the two men, at his severed ankles; and said, "One of you will have to carry me, I'm afraid I can't walk."

"We'll take it in turn's," said Ramon with a grin, getting down on his knees and hoisting him over his shoulders "Make yourself comfortable, its quite a way to the top." Kaya cast a worried look at her husband, being carried in such a way couldn't be good for him, but there was no other way to bring him to the surface.

When they were about halfway up the stairs, Mical on his second turn for carrying him, Marka said to Ramon "Uug, you do know that I will want my lightsaber back."

Kaya smiled.

--------------------------------------------

**The ****'****Archon****'****, Space, Pandema system**

"_Sir, the last package has been delivered. The big fish is home and dry," _said a woman's voice over the intercom.

"At last," said Carth, closing his eyes. At last this 'Marka' person had been rescued, they could all go home. And not a moment too soon, they were picking up reports of no fewer than three enemy fleets converging on their position. The sheer numbers were staggering, those three fleets had between them more warships than the entire Republic could muster. And Carth was sure there were plenty more of those fleets in the Sith Empire. But that was a worry for another day.

"Time to make our exodus, and Exit O'Dus," said Mission from over the intercom.

"You've been waiting a long time to say that," Carth accused her.

"Since I learned the name," she admitted.

Carth shook his head, but his cheeks twitched with the effort to keep from smiling. "All ships, prepare for a hyperspace jump," he ordered, sending the message to the entire fleet. The bombers that had been attempting to penetrate the shield of a nearby moon quickly returned to the main fleet, flying close to the capital ships. The ships engines fired up as they all turned in the same direction, and then they started shooting like laser beams into the blackness.

Within seconds they were gone, and all that was left was the darkness of space, littered with the debris of shattered star-ships.

-------------------------------------------- 

**O****'****Dus prison, Deep Catacombs**

Jadan spat a bloody froth out as he bounced on the guards shoulders, the breath being knocked out of his lungs and stifling his cries of pain and rage. Yet his overwhelming emotion was one of shock. How could something like this happen to him? How had he lost? Another surge of agony from his ruined upper jaw and nose, compounded with the steady throbbing of his severed abdomen caused him to groan with pain.

In his mind he replayed all the events of the attack, and then he remembered the Jedi girls words from just before the alarm "He will unman you". He had misunderstood at the time, but now he knew exactly what she had meant. With half his body removed he had been more than just unmanned. A rush of hatred rose in his throat, she had known this would happen, somehow she had known! She would pay for that, her and her traitor husband. And they would beg for death before the end.

They had not seen the last of Jadan Iscarn.

**The Saga continues with Star Wars: The Dark Empire Episode 2: Jenesis**


	12. Epilogue, Plasteel Surgery

A/N: I'm back; miss me

Authors Note: _I'm back; miss me? If you remember me; maybe. The point is I've finally finished my 6-month contract, and I'm home. I haven't had any time to write, but while I was away, during my spare seconds I mapped out how episode 2 is going to go, and a bit of episode 3. I think its fair to say that I will be writing a far more in-depth story than episode 1, and I hope; more enjoyable. Anyways, this last little bit of Exodus is just to give you an idea of what's going on with the three important characters who got badly injured during the story, sort of a lead into episode 2. This will be the last time I write Exodus, Enjoy!_

**Star Wars: The Dark Empire **

**Episode 1 ****–**** Exodus**

**Epilogue - Plasteel Surgery**

--

**Pandema medical centre, undamaged area**

Jadan moaned as the medical droids pushed yet another injection into him, subconsciously he tried to shy away, but was restrained by his bonds. His wounds were terrible, half his body had been sheared away by a lightsaber, just below the hip; another slash had ripped off his nose and a good portion of his face.

Outside, Lord Delhano Sorge turned away from watching the semi-conscious Sith through the one-way mirror. "Master, why are we making such an effort to save this one, moreover why are you taking such a personal interest?" he said to the black cloaked man next to him.

Darth Messiah's face was, as always, invisible; protected by a powerful Force reflection, and his voice gave away no emotion as he answered: "Have a little faith, my apprentice. By the time I'm done with him, I very much doubt even you would be able to defeat him."

Delhano fought the urge to scoff "Master, he is a cripple," he said with respect "Prosthetics for so much of the body have always proven less than satisfactory."

"Ah, but those prosthetics were never made by the Dark Lord of the Sith!"

At that moment, the covering cloth slipped off a table just to the right of Jadan's miserable form, exposing the eight spidery legs Delhano had seen the Dark Lord working on not so long ago. They were complete now, and ebony black. Delhano knew that they had been caught in the epicentre of the blast radius when the massive meteorite had struck, that they had survived relatively undamaged was a testament to their durability. Only now he could see that some of those legs were definitely armed, two with lightsabers, two more with custom lasers. Delhano suddenly had a vision of the top half of Jadan attached to those legs, standing with four of them, lightsabers in both of his hands, lightsabers in both of his front legs, and two laser blasters backing up.

"Since he killed his foster parents, and lost his master, he truly has few bonds left. I intend to make sure that he has none."

Delhano had to contain a gasp, his master was referring to the prophecy of the Sith'ari. A true Sith'ari, according to legend, could not be beaten, they were unstoppable. But to be a Sith'ari, one must be totally free of inhibitions, and could not have even the slightest of bonds with anyone or anything. It was an ideal that few Sith even aspired to, and there was always the catch. It had also been prophesied that a Sith'ari would be the end of the Sith, so anyone who was suspected of trying to become one was hunted down and killed out of principle.

"Jadan will become the perfect killing machine," finished Darth Messiah, and began to laugh. Delhano said nothing, wondering if this wreck of a man could truly be the end of them. He hadn't heard his master talk that way since the day Korgul had entered his service nine years before, and then he had been described as the 'perfect assassin'. Hearing this; Delhano couldn't help but feel that he, the second most powerful Sith in the empire, was becoming obsolete.

--

**The 'Jaeger', en route to the Republic**

"This is Captain Lorn speaking from the bridge," said the intercom "At sixteen hundred hours, which was five minutes ago, the fleet exited the unknown regions and entered the outer rim. The vessel is at normal conditions, with a slight lag on our damaged starboard side. Our current speed is…"

None of this meant anything to Dustil Onasi, it was just noise. He gave an angry start though to hear that there was no sign of pursuit, he wanted a chance to avenge his loss. He paced up and down the corridor, hating the feeling of uselessness. A few meters away he knew, in cold bag, lay the body of the woman who had been his wife. The woman who he still loved. Screaming in anguish he struck the wall. The pain cut through his anger, dispelling it instantly, leaving him with only pain and loss. He crumpled, crying.

Finally resolving to do something, Dustil dried his eyes and walked to the Medical centre not far away. He had to thank Kaah for saving him earlier. He found the Twi-lek easily enough, he was the only non-human resident in the room. He was greeted by a pale-looking Mission, she looked as though she had been crying. There had been plenty enough tears to go around, Dustil reflected bitterly. Kaah's face was ashen, he had some sort of cream smeared over his severed lekku. But before he could open his mouth, a sudden female cry caused him to turn in alarm, momentary forgetting his pain.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

Dustil turned to see a white-faced Bastila, she looked as though she had seen a ghost. At first he though she was talking to him, then realised that her alarm was directed at the man lying in the bed beyond him, next to Kaah.

"Do I know you?" was the man's questioning response.

Confusion was written all over Bastila's face as she stalled, Dustil took the opportunity to take a proper look at the man in the other bed. His heart gave a lurch, Revan! But wait, no, not Revan. He bore an striking resemblance to the former Dark Lord, but there were differences. He was a slightly thicker build than Revan (despite obvious malnourishment), his eyes less deeply set, and his face less angular. He sat propped up by pillows, a mass of wires attached to the nerve endings of his severed feet and ankles, which Dustil supposed would be used to attach artificial limbs. Thick antiseptic cream covered the left side of his face, which had been shredded by what looked like massive claw gouges, extending onto the top part of his chest. Dustil took a look from the claw marks, to the double-bladed lightsaber that the other man held in a death grip across his body, and clicked.

"You're the one that killed that Terantatek on Sedan, you're Marka," he exclaimed with more than a little awe.

Marka grimaced at Dustil's words, then nodded, "I am Marka," he said.

"But…but," stammered Bastila.

"He's not," said Dustil, casting a warning glance in Bastila's direction.

"Not what?" said a pretty young woman who had just entered the medical facility.

Bastila turned sharply, seeing the other woman for the first time, "You!" she almost snarled.

"Me," said the other woman simply.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" said Dustil.

"I'm Kaya, Marka's wife and Bastila's half-sister," she replied.

"Bastard half-sister," Bastila growled.

Kaya smiled "We both know that by the will of the Force, there are no bastard children," she said evenly through pearl-white teeth, "however, there are bastard parents."

What followed was just turning into a heated row when Mical entered and shooed them all out, citing that his patients needed rest, not stress. Only Kaya and Mission were allowed to stay, being family. As Dustil began to make his way back to his room, he realised that he had forgotton to thank Kaah for saving his life.

--

It took nearly two hours of constant work for Mical to attach the Mandalorian iron laced with contortis feet to the former Sith apprentices legs. The feet were the ones that he had taken off HK-47, and kept with him ever since, sensing that he would need them one day. He had known as soon as he had seen Marka's wound that the day had finally come, and made the appropriate adjustments to the legs to allow for a comfortable fit. As soon as he closed the last panel and announced that he was finished, Marka foolishly jumped off the bed, and promptly fell flat on his face. Mical and Mission gave a short laugh, and Kaya rushed to help him up, she was grinning as well. Marka though was not.

"You'll have to re-learn how to walk," said Mical, still smiling, "I did warn you."

The other man grimaced, and Mical had to feel sorry for him, proud as he was, reduced to the level of an infant. He would soon find out though that those feet, while heavier, were nearly indestructible and had huge talons that could be drawn and retracted. Three of them were at the front, one at the back, like some obscene bird of prey. Mical shuddered, remembering exactly what those talons had done to his friend Bao-Dur.

But they were effective weapons, in the hands (or legs?) of a capable user. And the Republic would be needing plenty of both of those resources in the near future.

--

**Space station in orbit above Yavin IV**

The kolto tank exploded with such force that kolto and bits of glass and metal were sent flying as far as the far wall, forty meters away. Jezebel Torin emerged, angrily she noticed that there was still a small amount of kolto on her body. Smoke rose as she evaporated the remainder off. A highly polished piece of metal showed a slightly blurred reflection, Jezebel looked into it, for the first time fully surveying Suvam Tan's handiwork.

Nearly her entire left side had been shattered by GOTO's self-destructive explosion, and most of her right side was covered in burns. Her left leg had been shredded, as had her left arm right up to nearly her shoulder. Only her impossible force-strength had kept her alive long enough to receive medical assistance, and much of her power had been drained as a result. Now the left side of her face was covered with a mechanical mask, her left eye artificial and disturbingly red. Her chest had thick metal plates all the way around, which at places were probably all that was keeping her innards in. Her new leg was workable, but not powerful enough to support the extra weight of her metallic left side during movement. The eccentric inventor had obviously realised this, and covered for it by making her left arm massive, long enough to reach the floor. Raising it slightly she saw that it only had three fingers, arranged like a tripod. Two were capable of moving together though, creating a vague semblance of a hand.

_Now I look like a monster as well_ thought Jezebel sardonically as she took her lopsided, robotic, burn-scarred image in.

What are you doing? cried Suvam Tan in rodian, running into the room and surveying the carnage That was a perfectly good kolto tank, and kolto is now incredibly rare ever since you… he broke off, his hands at his windpipe. _You promised,_ he gasped, _you promised that you would let me live!_

"Wrong," Jezebel rasped through a now half-mechanical voice box "Jaq promised on my behalf. But I am grateful for what you have done for me," she gave a quick twist with her one remaining hand, snapping the hapless inventors neck, "so I won't make you suffer."

Jaq, Visas and Hanharr had just entered, drawn by the commotion. Jezebel barely noticed them though, she was drinking the sensation of drawing the life force from the dying rodian. Her power had diminished greatly during her over six month recovery time, despite her followers frequent murder sorties to keep her fed. She had learned during the course of her incapacitation that the power slowly bled out of her, and if she did not keep drawing in more; sooner or later she would be powerless.

The problem was that Jezebel was dead to the Force, and did not actually have any power of her own. But through her formidable bonding ability, she had found that her and those bonded to could actually draw the force from those that they killed, transferring it to her. All the more potently if that organism was force sensitive, like Suvam here.

It was time to move on, that had stalled in the space station to long already. She needed to kill more, hundreds, thousands. And she still hadn't got her revenge on Revan. "Visas, see if you can find anything useful amongst this idiots junk." she said softly, trying unsuccessfully to contain the rasp, "Jaq, find some charges and set them in the atmospheric stabilisers, we're blowing this rust heap up behind us."

As the other two left, Hanharr gave a roar, looking intently at Suvam's body. For the first time in months, Jezebel smiled. "Yes Hanharr, lunch is on me."

As the insane wookie rushed in on his unexpected meal, Jezebel turned and moved to the massive windows, which were currently facing the stars. Somewhere out there in the endless darkness was Revan. He would learn the price of betrayal, the wrath of Jezebel Torin.

--


End file.
